


Vitae, Mortem, Essentia

by PaperAnn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reapers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Sexual Situations, Cas is a stubborn ass, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Equal Parts Destiel and Sabriel, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Gabriel Fixes Things, Grace Bonds, M/M, Plot, Team Free Will, Team Free Will Big Bang 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:04:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11803785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: When God made humans, Death made Reapers—ushers between Heaven and Hell and devoted operatives since the dawn of time. There’s a hierarchy, an order, and the Reapers are assigned souls who match well with their individual classifications.While Reapers live in solidarity, awaiting their next assignment, three unlikely agents of Death connect due to…unique circumstance. And their friendship is downright unheard of.Dean and Castiel are perfectly content with the job, but Sam is weary. As a Misericordia Reaper, he uses soft words and compassion to lead the special gone-too-soon souls to the other side. He sees beauty in humanity, feels anger in their God, but more than anything: he wants the chance to be one of them.The concept of Existence for a Reaper is unprecedented but Sam craves it, needing to get out before he cracks.Although it’s a shock to Dean, he’ll support and follow his friends anywhere, even to a life on Earth. The thing is Castiel is a Probitas Reaper: he’s only led those to the Gates of Hell. He can’t comprehend Sam’s idiotic idea since he’s only known the the depraved and the wicked.They’ve always been inseparable, bonded, afamily—but this may be enough to break them.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much love and thanks to the amazing [SPNgreeneyes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/spngreeneyes) for editing this fic! She's such a great friend, a joy to work with and always makes me look good with her beta skills ;) You're the best, babe! <3
> 
> The artwork in this piece was created by Miss [Olivecave](http://olivecave.tumblr.com/). You should definitely follow the link and check out more of her fabulous art!
> 
>  **Ann's Notes:** This fic was written for the [Team Free Will Big Bang](https://tfwbigbang.tumblr.com/). It's been a hot second since I've been able to really dig into some good ol' fashion world-building. I've thoroughly enjoyed creating an original Reaper universe, mixing it in with some of the Supernatural 'verse, and intertwining plot points and characters from both sides along the way!
> 
> I hope you enjoy the read! xoxo

  
  
The day couldn’t have been anything less than perfect.

The sun was shining bright, there were a slight breeze and Sam took a second to close his eyes and take in a stolen moment.  Although his suit was black and felt like a freakin’ magnet for the sun’s rays, he didn’t care.  He didn’t get outside much—the majority of his job was within the corridors of the hospital, so this?

This was a treat.

With a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes again and that’s when he saw her.

She was barely six, pigtails slightly uneven atop her head, blonde hair illuminated in the sunlight.  The girl looked confused as she hesitantly walked around the park, chewing her thumb.  There were other children there, but they paid her no mind.  She was clearly distraught, her pink and frilled dress swirling up as she jerked from side to side, looking for someone.

Sam slowly stood and made his way over to the small girl, bending over as he went until he was in a low crouch, right in front of her.

“Hey, what’s your name?” he asked with a bright smile.

She chewed on her thumb nail, obviously taking his size into account and stumbling backwards a little.

Sam tried again with a kind, “You look lost.  Can I help you?  Your name is Katie, right?”

Her entire arm dropped in surprise and she asked with wide eyes, “How do you know that?!”

“’Cause I know your mom.”  He made sure his voice was soft and welcoming as the small child seemed to think it over, still starting it him.  “We can go find her, if you like.”

“B-but Mama—” Katie stammered over her syllables and tears were in her eyes, “Mama—”

“Has been away for a little bit,” Sam nodded, recognizing her confusion and hoping to help with, “She misses you, very, very much.  Would you like to see her?”

All of a sudden, Katie launched her entire tiny frame onto Sam with more force than he’d been anticipating for such a small child.  He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly.  She began to sob, and he rubbed reassuring circles, his hand damn near the size of her back.

Eventually, she peeked out at him, tears running out of those giant blue eyes and she nodded vigorously, “Yes, please, sir.”

Sam grinned, she’d obviously been raised well.

“That’s a good girl, Katie.  Now, all I need for you to do is to take my hand and follow me, okay?” he instructed as he stood up.

The girl’s eyes widened in amazement when she blurted, “You’re so tall!  My brother’s growing, too!  Is he gonna get as tall as you?”

“He may,” Sam laughed and reached out.

Katie followed direction, even though her hand all but disappeared in his grasp.  Together, they began to walk.  And just as Sam anticipated, this little girl was smart and full of that spark.  She began asking questions, now that she was comfortable, and Sam tried to answer as many as he could.  But very carefully.

All little Katie wanted, more than anything in the world, was to see her Mom.

And Sam knew that she would, the closer they got to the pond’s shoreline.

“Are you ready, Katie?” he asked one more time.

She nodded with so much happiness that it was contagious.  “Yes, yes!”

“All right, here we go!”

\---------------------

Knocking back a shot of a whiskey, Dean took a second to glance out into the joint, leaning on the bar.

He loved places like this.  Prime people watching, booze, the dimmed lights and the ambiance.  Well, this particular one was hit and miss.  Unfortunately, it was more of a club than a bar.  Dean strictly stayed away from the dance floor and parked his ass right where the liquor was.  He was ready for a refill at any given moment, and the hottie behind the bar was extremely ready to provide.

He saw a pack (yes, _a pack_ , there was no other way to describe them) of chicks celebrating.  They were tumbling over each other, probably from a sorority and sporting heels they hadn’t had the chance to break in yet.  He knew damn well, because one was walking with a drunken attempted-swagger (which looked more like a waddle) and a friggin limp.

She’d be feeling that tomorrow.  Yikes.

They kept asking where Amy went, over and over, shouting loud enough to be heard over the music.

That’s when someone sat next to him, and she appeared hazy.  Although, there was also that drunken glaze in her eyes, as Dean turned to her and smiled.

She was wearing a “21st Birthday” sash, and instantly Dean slapped on a winning smile and asked, “You wouldn’t be Amy, by chance, would you?”

She nodded, like the world was in slow motion, “Yeah—how’d you know?”

“Just a lucky guess.  So?  Twenty one?  How’s it been?” he began making conversation and scooted a little closer.

“Oh, God!” she blurted out and all but fell on the bar, “ _So many_ shots!  I can’t even _count_!  So much fun, but I’m only now being able to see straight!  I was puking and I think that helped get me back to normal!”

“Aww,” Dean hailed the bartender and asked, “Can I get a glass of water?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” she winked and instantly refilled it in front of him.

He took the tall glass and slid it over to the birthday girl, “That should help.  So you made any new friends tonight?”

Amy gave him a once over as she sipped, and then flirtatiously added, “Maybe you.  What’s your name?”

“Dean,” he clucked his tongue, “and I would _love_ to be your new friend.  It looks like your buddies are still out to party.  You done drinking yet?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of gum.  Hopefully that would make her feel a little more confident, which is exactly what he Dean was hoping for.  She sighed in relief and took a stick, unfolding it in record time and popping it in her mouth.

After chewing for a few seconds, looking back out to the dance floor and noting she hadn’t been caught, she turned to this new dashing stranger (or at least that’s what Dean always figured the ladies thought of him, thank you very much).  Slowly, the wheels in her head began turning and she nodded.

“I don’t think I’ll be drinking for a damn long time,” she finally confirmed, and with gusto.

“Well,” he leaned forward and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear, pitching his voice to something more husky, “Whattya say we get out of here, Miss Twenty-One?”

Her eyes widened slightly before agreeing, “I think I’d like that…”

Dean grabbed his wallet out of his leather jacket and thumbed through the dividers.  He pulled out a chunk of cash that wasn’t just to cover the drinks, but would leave a hefty tip for the bartender.  He waved at her and told her to have a good night before offering his palm to Amy.

“Wanna sneak away?” he flashed a devilish grin, carefully nodding to the group.

Amy instantly perked up and agreed with excitement, “Totally!”

“Okay, let’s head out!”

\----------------------

Castiel marched over to a man standing in front of a doorway, one who happened to be in front of his house, poised to knock.

He didn’t bother to clear his throat, he didn’t see the point of pleasantries, especially with humans like this.  Instead, he made sure his footsteps were heavy and echoed as he walked up the porch behind him.  

Castiel made his presence known.  He always did one way or another.

The man whipped around right before he could rap his knuckles against the glass panels, a deep frown set into his features.  Although, he did hesitate in the face of Cas’ own determined expression.  Castiel had been told numerous times that he had a, quote, “bitchy resting face,” or whatever the phrase was.

“What do you want?!”  The man mustered up some bravado, crossing his arms across a broad chest atop a beer belly.

“Aaron Johnson.  You’re dead.  Please come with me,” Castiel deadpanned, and turned his back as he expected the man to follow.  

When he didn’t hear the spirit move right away, he looked back over his shoulder with an unimpressed raised brow and added, “Your wife is dousing your body in kerosene as we speak.  Unless you wish to haunt this world forever as a vengeful spirit?  I suggest you listen to what I said the first time.”

Castiel gave him one more chance: “Follow me,” because he wasn’t going to wait any longer.

It was all in the dead man’s hands now.

The afterlife, whether they were headed to Heaven or Hell.  

Or if he meandered?  

He was in for a lifetime of suffering.  Haunting where he’d been killed as a vengeful spirit, losing more parts of himself day by day.  Forgetting who he was, all the good things disappearing until he was filled with rage and fueled by madness.  

Until one of those hunters that seemed to be getting more and more popular found a way to eradicate him.  If he caused trouble—which Castiel had no doubt he would, given his track record as a human.

The Reaper couldn’t care less, one way or the other.  The choice belonged to the spirit, he was only here to escort him to the other side.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: The archetypes of Reapers I created for the boys are derived from Latin Words
> 
> Cas _Probitas_ : Honesty, uprightness, honor, virtue, integrity  
> Dean _Lepos_ : Charm, wit, humor, captivation, enchantment  
> Sam _Misericordia_ : Mercy, compassion, sympathy, humanity

One thing that no one knew about Reapers was what they did when they weren’t “Reaping.”  While there may have been an office, a main branch to report into now and then, as well as a telepathic courier service of sorts, when you weren’t on the job?  You were, more or less, on your own.

Most all Reapers were loners, the career was engraved into their very being and that was the only reason for their existence.  The only ones who were in contact with others were the Elders, ones who worked within the system, and the different branches with assignments to keep them busy.  Reapers were respectful, and death was sacred.

Both the happening and Death, himself.

Hopefully, in the given eternity, you wouldn’t run into the man.  Either your lifeline would change rapidly or you had gotten yourself into a horrible situation.  You were given a spirit to escort, you completed the process, and patiently waited for another.

Dean, Sam and Castiel were not only anomalies they were the _singular_ group of Reapers that were just that.  A group.  “Friends.”

Of course, Reapers knew one another in name.  The only time they crossed paths were in the case of disasters.

Terrorist attacks.  Bombings.  School shootings.

Wars.

Even then, they were merely there to do their job, collecting the names that appeared in their heads, and then leaving.

The fact that this trio not only kept in touch, but in their down time stayed together...it was _unimaginable_.  The other Reapers waited, usually in a close proximity to where they’d found their latest case.  Their wasn’t much of a time lag between souls, and if there was—Reapers were eternal: they excelled in patience.  

These three… _socialized_.  No Reapers even knew _how,_ or where to begin the act of casual conversation.

Sam was the key point, the original center piece of calm between them, Dean being the instigator.

Back in the Middle Ages, there had been an awkward mix-up.

Sam had been sent on a mission to reap a middle-class man named George the Second, and Dean had brashly interrupted in a roar of fury.  His brazen entrance was shocking at first, and Sam had frozen up.

He’d actually shoved Sam, right in front of the puzzled man shouting, “This one is _mine_!”

Sam had done a double take, never truly having interacted with another Reaper before (he’d taken individuals or kept to himself in the wake of mass tragedies) and having found at a distance almost _all_ of them docile, at best.  Mostly, they were silent, whispering to their human something hushed enough that those around couldn’t even pick up.  Coaxing someone to the other side took a level of tact, and _this one_?  

Completely lacked it.   _All_ of it.

“I just received orders today…” Sam had started to explain, trying to stand tall and not fumble with his words, their soul waiting in limbo as the argument continued, “And he needs—”

“To be ushered by _me_!” Dean snapped, like an alpha wolf, stomping further and further into the other Reaper’s space.  “So you may take your leave and—”

Just then, another man appeared to be wandering and both Reapers froze.  

Because George the Second marched over to this newcomer, who could clearly _see_ him which meant _he’d_ passed away, too, and asked, “Have you finished your chores?”

With a pause, he looked around towards Sam and Dean before looking back to the other human and nodded, “I have, Father.”

Dean angrily kicked the ground, a puff of dirt and rocks surrounding him and cursed under his breath.  He looked towards Sam and mumbled in defeat, “It appears that I have the George the _Third_.”

For the first time in a very, very long time, perhaps centuries, Sam laughed.    
  
He laughed at this fiery Reaper, who was prepared to pick an actual fight with him over a soul in an instant.  And Sam…he’d never met anyone like that.  He felt drawn towards him, because this Reaper?  Had life, in an existence surrounded in only death.

“What’s your name?” Sam asked, reaching out his hand and introducing himself, “I’m Samuel.”

He looked at the extended palm, up to Sam’s face, and back down again before he finally relaxed.  “I’m Dean,” he chuckled and shook, embarrassed, and scratching the back of his head.  “I suppose we should continue with our duties?”

“Of course.  I…hope to see you again.  Under less volatile circumstances.”  

And he meant it.  

Castiel hadn’t been much different, except this time Dean had picked a fight with him.  It figured, Dean could pick a damn fight with a tree, given the opportunity.  It was during a plague and it was all hands on deck.  Sam and Dean had been together and working side by side for a while.  Once they met, they clicked, and enjoyed each other’s company outside of jobs.

They’d heard stories about this Castiel previously, and for some reason that Sam wasn’t sure of, he ruffled Dean’s feathers.  If he had to guess, it was about the Probitas Reaper’s track record.  Hell, he may as well have been the Golden Child.  Castiel was notorious for getting every job done, and fast—always employee of the month and maybe that was why Dean had a bone to pick with him.

People were dying in Europe.  More and more each day, and the Elders had forged this “Special Task Force” Dean and Sam were put on, as well as the other Reaper.  It didn’t matter who died, who was assigned who, they simply needed to usher the souls.  And quickly.  The plague was taking people’s lives at an alarming rate, disgusting doctors were ‘putting patients out of their misery’ and they couldn’t allow all their spirits to linger with questions of why.  That was when they had time to second-guess staying on Earth, think about their unfinished business, which was bad news for Reapers.

Dean made it his God-sent duty to beat this notorious Reaper since all these souls were “up for grabs,” as he put it.  Sam was honestly terrified about what the hell would happen.  Terrified and waiting for some off-kilter humor, if he knew Dean.

It was like a game to him, and it got to the point that the two were so focused on winning over souls, the entire plague became a goddamn clusterfuck!  Oh—it didn’t take Castiel long to figure out what Dean was doing.  And he rose to the occasion.

The rest of the Reapers didn’t even know what to do, _where_ to fit in.  They mostly stayed on the outskirts of it, watching the two go head to head, disappearing, reappearing, and attempting to stay out of their way as this chaos ensued.

All except Sam.

He found it downright hilarious (even though all these humans dying from the poor conditions and lack of hygiene and sanitary conditions was a tragedy) he knew Dean.  He knew how stubborn he was, and to see him take on Castiel?  

Sam tried to keep to his own business, he truly did but it was almost a comedy act.

The job was done quickly and efficiently even though the Elders weren’t privy as to _how_ , and the rest of the Reapers were only left scraps.

There was one moment of downtime when Dean grabbed Sam and demanded, “What’s my count?!”

Flustered, he asked slowly, “Uh…I was supposed to be keeping track?”

“Damn right, you were!  What kind of a friend _doesn’t_ keep score when I’m handing this fuckin’ self-righteous high and mighty—” he abruptly stopped and slowed down his speech when he said, “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

With a shockingly low voice, Castiel inquired, “So this is a competition.  Why are you doing this?”

The expression on Dean’s face turned as pale as the dead, looking for Sam to save him.  Except, Sam was trying his hardest not to breakdown into a fit of giggles.  He knew Dean was so much different than other Reapers, he couldn’t explain in terms that their kind (let alone a fucking _Probitas_ Reaper) would understand.

After all, they handled the worst of the worst.  His appearance was merely to take care of a large-scale outbreak.  They would never cross paths again.

“You’re on your own, Dean,” Sam announced, and found a soul wandering.

Apparently, what he didn’t witness, was a stranger interaction.  One of those, from enemies to frenemies as the (now out in the open) competition grew more heated.  Then after the plague came to an end?  The two…kept in touch.  Castiel was brought into their circle, and two friends became three.

Shockingly enough.  Although the shock faded rather quickly, because Dean tended to grow on you…like a tumor.  But the fact he broke Castiel, the Reaper Poster Boy, in was _remarkable_.  Sam found an easy friendship with Castiel, sometimes he was the referee when Dean went at it with the other Reaper, so the transition was actually another breath of fresh air.  A very welcomed one.

It wasn’t long until the three gathered together quite regularly, finding their own peace in their line of work.  Because, even though he kept it to himself…this business, this entire job was wearing on Sam.  But it wasn’t as though you could kill a Reaper, was it?  He didn’t wish for anything as final as death...he wished to _be alive_.  He was almost jealous of humanity, and before he’d met Dean and Castiel, he enjoyed watching them.

Sometimes Sam would pick a human, a newborn with bright eyes looking out into the world and follow their journey.  Follow them through school, watching it learn and grow, finding that exact moment when he or she found their purpose and fought for it.  Sometimes it would turn out for the best, others, it wouldn’t.  It was interesting, because some souls lived until Sam swooped in to usher them into the afterlife.

Other humans began to die, much, much sooner.  The will to live began to dwindle and it was a true shame.  These days, it would begin younger and younger, those who didn’t have a purpose almost longed for the end.  God, sometimes Sam just wanted to manifest, shake them, and tell them how _important_ life was and how much they had to live for because…he was _jealous_.  Why let their life go to waste, to wallow and let it pass by?  He never understood.  That was when a Reaper like Cas may come in and take the soul, suicide was a slippery slope and best suited for a Probitas Reaper.  It was up to their God to decide what to do with them, and it made Sam sick.

Dean and Sam were corporal (which wasn’t _necessarily_ breaking a rule, but it was frowned upon—an act the hierarchy of Reapers never had to discipline because no Reaper wanted to be part of the world) at a coffee shop, waiting for Castiel.  He normally was a bit late, handed the souls who tended to veer towards the fate of vengeful spirits and needed a heavier hand delivering the news.

When they caught sight of him, huffing and puffing into the café, they knew it was exactly as they predicted.

When he sat down, Dean snorted and asked, “What’s got you in a tizzy?”

“What do you think?” he countered with heavy sarcasm.  “I just came from the Gates of Hell.  I _always_ seem to escort my charges to the Gates of Hell.”

“You’re good at it,” Dean pointed out as he wrapped an arm around the other man.  “Especially because those bound for downstairs?  Gonna make racket on Earth when they go vengeful.  You do good work, Cas.“

Sam concurred, “It’s true.  Much better to get them through the gates then leave them here to do more damage.”  He sipped his tea and couldn’t help but ask, “What was this one’s story?”

“His wife unintentionally ran him over with their vehicle.  She was fleeing because he was abusing her, and that wasn’t the first time.  She’d finally had enough and only managed to make it out, her condition was...severe,” Cas reported back, then added when the barista came over with his beverage (one that Dean had placed while they were ordering).  “Then she proceeded to back up, and run over him again.  Multiple times.”

“Yeesh!” Dean exclaimed, patting Cas on the back and dropping his arm so the other Reaper could have access to his drunk.  “That’s… _wow_.”

“Mm,” Castiel nodded, bringing the coffee to his lips.  Right before he took his first sip, he mused, “She was burning the body when I arrived.  I believe she got her revenge.  I hope she properly disposed of the remains.  From the information I was given, he was a horrible excuse for a human.”

Sam did a double-take with his jaw dropped, and he could only repeat Dean's sentiments of, “Wow.  Cas, that’s…yeah.  You’ve got some strong feelings on that one, huh?”

“Of course.  He was a bottom feeder.  He deserved Hell.  She deserved better.  And I can only hope it doesn't blemish her record when she's reaped one day,” he shrugged, then turned to Dean with a smile, “Thank you, this is very good.”

With a laugh and a shake of his head, Dean fondly said, “Oh, only you, Cas.”

And Sam had to agree.  Still, to this very day, it there was one Reaper who deserved “Employee of the Month” every damn month it was Castiel.  His record on the difficult, nightmarish humans was bar none.  Everyone was given souls who fit their style, but Cas, time and time again was handed a stack of ‘will not go quietly into that dark night’ kind of humans.  The ones that would always go vengeful.

Yet, his take-no-shit attitude and his blunt explanations usually turned even the most difficult around in a flash.  After all, no one wanted to roam the Earth and watch their loved ones grow old and die, no one wanted to feel that self-loathing bubble up and consume them, losing who they were completely.

Sam would never have been able to explain it the way that Cas could, but he always managed.  With flying colors.  It was this talent, being a Probitas Reaper and the way people believed him, because that was the hard part—making the ones with all that hate, all that anger of clocking out—go with you.

“What about you, Dean?” Castiel asked with curiosity.  “You were out on a mission last night, correct?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, and leaned back in his chair.  “Wasn’t the worst, wasn’t the best.  Kinda sucked.”

“You went out to the _bar_ , didn’t you?  I thought that was just you…being you.  It sounded like you picked up some chick.”  Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion, because they’d gotten together after Sam’s difficult afternoon, and then Dean went out ‘for drinks.’  Or so he said.

It wasn’t just Cas’ eyes that flickered over, his entire body shifted and his eyes narrowed when he demanded, “You picked up ‘some chick?’”

 _Oh_.  Sam _shouldn’t_ have said anything.  Castiel's voice was dangerous and Dean shrunk under the intensity.  Completely forgetting they had this budding ‘thing’ they were _still_ dancing around like fools, Sam had probably just throw a wrench in the system.  Or…maybe this was a push?  Because Dean’s answer may help move things along…

“Hey!  It wasn’t like that!”  He raised his hands in front of him, trying to ease the angry Reaper.  Then his voice turned to a hushed whisper, even though Sam could obviously hear the idiot when he leaned in and said, “You _really_ think I’d do that?  Not…anymore.  Trust me, okay?”  Then he leveled his own glare at Sam and snipped, “I was on assignment!”

“At a _bar_?” Sam asked patronizingly.

“ _Yes_.  At a bar,” he parroted back and dropped one hand under the table, where Sam knew damn well was now either on Cas’ thigh or holding his hand.

Idiots.

“I’d like to hear this story as well.”  Castiel seemed to be quelled for the moment, so it was clear Sam’s intuition was correct.  “I’m assuming you were nothing but Lepos last night.”

“Hey, don’t hate!  It was this girl's, Amy, her twenty-first birthday,” Dean prefaced.  “She was partying with her friends, and going hard.  Chick was a hundred and ten, soaking wet.  God, she was smashed, friends were, too.  To the point they kept drinking and dancing, just kept asking each other if they’d seen her, didn’t know anything even happened.  Until the ambulance arrived.”

“She died in the bathroom, alcohol poisoning.  Bent over the toilet.  People going in and out thought she was puking, but she’d passed out.  Then all the booze she’d been drinking caught up to her, and she stopped breathing.  Wasn’t until another girl noticed she’d been there for a couple hours, realized something was wrong.”  Dean sighed heavily, “She pulled a good old-fashioned white-girl-wasted move, crawled underneath the stall, and screamed at her friend to get security and call 911.  They tried to get her responsive.  It was way too late.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair, “I’ve had too many of those.  Was she playing that stupid frat game?  Trying to go for twenty-one shots?  How did she…handle it?”

“She’d been boozing all day, and then she barely remembered getting to the bar.  I got her out of there before I gave her the talk.  She was really upset, broke down about almost finishing her degree, about this boy she liked, yadda yadda yadda, but she listened to me.  Said she was ready.  Then, off to the Pearly Gates, we went!”

“At least it was a ‘happy ending.’”  Castiel tried to console Dean, but the air quotes completely ruined the moment.

Especially given the fact that Dean was usually all about a different kind of ‘happy ending.’  It lightened the mood, made him laugh regardless, and roll his eyes.

“What about you, Sam?  We grabbed dinner because you said you had a rough one, but you never said what.  Cas and I just spilled, it’s your turn,” Dean decided to push, even though he normally wouldn’t.

Sam knew, no doubt, it was because he’d harassed Dean and shuffled him into a corner with Cas.  Although that _was_ annoying, because it wasn’t like it landed him in the dog house!  Still, he was right, they all put in their stories, it was his turn, wasn’t it?

“Katie.  She was barely six years old, her birthday was last month.”  Sam pursed his lips together.

“Aw, _fuck_ ,” Dean cursed and blurted out, “Dude, I’m sorry, you don’t have to—”

“No, it’s okay.”  He shook his head and relayed, “Her mom had died two years ago, so at least they get to be together, you know?  Since it was her piece of shit dad that let it happen.”  His teeth were ground together in anger, but tried not to let it show.  It was humans like this that didn’t deserve life, that took it away from those who were innocent, helpless on their own, who had their entire future ahead of them—!

It was in these moments that Sam loathed _God_.  He wished for the day when Death reaped Him.    
  
Why did he do this to His children?  Why didn’t He save them?  Because, while they took the souls to the afterlife, they weren’t _marked_ by Reapers—it wasn’t Death who made the call, the Reapers just did their jobs and cleaned up.  God could step in and protect His children, he had every chance, all the ability to make it happen.  It was “God’s Will,” that’s what Sam had been told, and in the hierarchy of things, they had to follow through with each command.

Like little Katie.

“Her father…left her in a parked car.  She was locked inside, in the Florida heat with the windows up.  He’d just scored, passed out on the couch of a heroin OD, completely forgot about her because he was so desperate for a fix.  She couldn’t get out, she was found when her older brother got home, but—” he stopped abruptly.  “Like I said, she’s with her mother now.  They’re reunited, and I have to remember, keep reminding myself, that’s what counts.”

Dean leaned on the table and felt the need to ask, “Do you know what happened to that motherfucker?”

“Alive and well.”  Sam had to force the growl out of his voice, “Sure, he’ll go to jail, but it doesn’t matter.  His daughter’s _dead_ because of him.”

With a deep breath in, even Castiel acknowledged, “You always manage to get the…emotionally-strenuous cases.”

“Yeah, dude, that’s heavy,” Dean agreed with sympathy.  “You do get the short end of the stick.  Even other Misericordia Reapers…they don’t have it as rough as you.  Who the hell did you manage to piss of during the Renaissance, Sammy?!  It _had_ to be someone.”

“I don’t know, Dean, I don’t know,” he chuckled humorlessly.  “I’m getting tired of it, that’s for sure.”

And even though that admission wasn’t all of it, it was the beginning.

Because Sam was already looking for ways to get out.

\-------------------------------------

Sam was waiting and looking at his watch, over and over.  He didn’t understand.  His assignment was supposed to be here, walking down this wing, and…they weren’t.  It wasn’t like this woman was running a few minutes behind, it was more like a few _hours_.  And Sam was already at his wits ends, if she wasn’t going to come to him?  He may as well seek her out.

He walked through the hallways of the hospital—the most common scenery he was used to—and made a sharp left towards her room.

Except, Sam froze in his tracks.

Instead of them taking his charge _off_ the ventilator like he'd been told they would, the family was cheering about some _‘_ miracle! _’_   The woman wasn’t even in a damn coma anymore!  She was animated, hugging those around her, and practically born-again without even a lick of injury from the car accident.

She was supposed to be brain dead, Sam didn’t understand, he—

It would be a terrible thing to take her away from her family, now that she was alive again, but orders were orders.  He stepped towards the door, the invisible Grim Reaper in name and notion but—

Somehow, there was a hand grabbing the back of his collar and yanking so hard that he not only was pulled from the room, he flew across the hallway and hit the wall with a thud.

It was enough to stun him, and he abruptly looked up with shock from the violent burst of energy.

His tone was sheer confusion mixed with demand as he sputtered out, “Angel?”

“Aww, that’s sweet, but you can call me Gabriel,” the (not even a mere seraph—if _Gabriel_ was his name) archangel teased, and Sam could feel the pure power radiating from him in a show of strength.

He was posturing, and Sam didn’t understand any of it.  “Did you cure her?”

“Mmhm, which is why I’m issuing a ‘hands off’ message.  Think you can handle that?” Gabriel asked with a grin.

“But I—”  Sam righted himself and smoothed down his suit, brows scrunched up in confusion, “We’re _supposed_ to be on the same side.  If she’s to die, why are you not only allowing her to live, but going as far as to heal her and risk the natural cycle?”

“That’s for me to know, and you not to.”  He winked, and after a good once-over, very deliberately dragging his eyes over Sam from head to toe, clucked his tongue.  “ _Damn_.  Gotta say, I’ve never seen a Reaper so hot.  Usually, they’re old and wrinkly.  Must be my lucky day.”

Sam was downright befuddled.  He’s never encountered an angel, nor been blocked from escorting a soul or…been hit on?  What was going on?!  He couldn’t even figure out which of these things to address first!

“I am _required_ to usher this soul,” Sam stated firmly, gathering his bearings.  “I need to take her—”

Gabriel smirked; something completely devilish for an angel, and it sent a shiver of fear down Sam’s spine.  “Not today, kiddo.  I’ve got plans for her.  Now, what’s your name?  You’re something _different_.  You’re unique.  You’re not a drone like the other Reapers, or else you wouldn’t be this flustered.  It’s fun!  You should've been scared off by now, going toe to toe with an archangel, and all.”

“I, uh, Samuel.”  He didn’t know why he did it.  He didn’t know what he was doing at all!  “I’m not scared of you.  I’m doing my job.”

“Sam, huh.  I’ll remember that,” he smiled widely.  “Now, be a good boy and run along.  I’ve got places to go, things to do.  And no touching, yeah?  Unless it’s _me_ , because I can’t say I’ve been with a Reaper!  And I’d sure give it a go with you, sexy.  Could be quite the treat.”

That was it.  Sam wasn’t sure if his face lost all color or it flushed beet-red, he only knew his jaw had dropped.

Gabriel closed the distance between them and tapped his chin, effectively shutting his mouth.  He was close, close enough to feel his body heat and focused on Sam’s lips as he brushed his thumb across them.

Jesus, it made his heartbeat double-time because this _wasn’t_ supposed to happen, _all of this_ was unprecedented and—

With a wiggle of his eyebrows, Gabriel tapped Sam’s forehead.

And very, very suddenly, he was somewhere in…Siberia?

Fuck!  He’d been had!

How the hell was he supposed to explain this to management?!


	3. Chapter Two

Maybe that was the breaking point.

Sam was cursing, pacing, fucking _livid_!  Of course, he’d been called into not just higher management, but to a small counsel.  The rarity of a ‘Reaper healing a soul and allowing life’ wasn’t only an appalling and shocking crime, but the select few who had done it were _severely_ punished.

If Sam’s record hadn’t been squeaky clean, he would’ve been in deep shit.

Because no one believed him about the “angelic intervention!”

They all thought he was lying, making up an excuse because he’d ‘always been too soft’.  Well, if he was so damn soft, how was he taking these goddamn cases they continually to handed down to _him_ specifically, and he always pulled them all off without a hitch?  How wasn’t he going crazy?!

Well, the answer to that—Sam _was_.

He was done.

Sam was sick and tired of seeing the horror on people’s faces when the realization of death dawned upon them.  Sam was over being the one who was there for comfort, for the weary and the broken, because he had a tender demeanor and was able to give them that support, that security.  But who the hell did that for Sam?

Yeah—Dean and Cas were his listening ear, but Sam was old.    
  
He’d been doing this for too long, he was so jaded.

And more than anything—he craved _life_.  Even if it was fleeting, he wanted to make the most of it.  Because each of those infants that he watched bloom into adulthood and make their way to the grave?  It was _beautiful_.  It was something precious he wanted to experience, and then…be done.

“Heh, I was ‘lying,’” Sam snarled under his breath still worked up, recounting the confrontation and cursing.  “Why the hell would I…”

He’d sprung into a random hotel room, waiting for Dean and Castiel to finish up their assignments and get there.  When it was late and the coffee shops were closed, when the bars were passed last call, they’d crash in hotels and watch what humans created on TV.  There were quite a few programs that Dean was obsessed with, and Sam found humorous; that’s why he’d decided they needed to meet here tonight.

Because after his heavy announcement?  There needed to be a chance to unwind from it.

He…didn’t know how the other two Reapers would take it.

But Sam would do it for himself, even if they weren’t interested.  Hell, maybe they would reap him in the end?

Sam was almost sure that Dean had a drunk driver still a ways away and Castiel had a gang shooting.  So all Sam had left to do was stew.

When he heard a recent, but familiar voice, he nearly jumped a mile high.

“So this is a brand-spankin’ new Reaper thing, too?  Crashing in hotel rooms?  You get more and more interesting by the moment, Sammy!”

He spun around to see the damn archangel lounging on one of the beds while he had been focused out the window.

“You!  It’s because of you I was brought before a panel of Elders!  No one believed me!  I could’ve gotten _isolation_ , I could’ve—!”

“But ya didn’t,” Gabriel pointed out with a grin and made himself at home.  “Don’t worry, I’ve warded her against Reapers, no one will be able to find her.  So the blame’s no longer on anyone.  She’ll ‘look’ dead.  Sorry, I should’ve done that first, huh?  I was a little…” he made a show of biting his lip and shot Sam an enticing glance, “distracted.”

This time though, the Reaper was ready.  He stood his ground, metaphorically, when he marched over and demanded, “Why are you here?!  To tell me how you benevolently hid her?  How sweet of you!  I always heard angels weren’t bias, they stayed in Heaven and kept to themselves.  But you’re a dick with wings!”

“And a damn powerful one,” Gabriel reminded him.  “I _love_ the balls of steel on you!  Why did you have to be a Reaper?!  It’s doing the universe a disservice!”

“Not for long,” Sam snorted before he realized it left his mouth, but then tried to cover it up with a mocking, “What would you have me be?  Another asshole angel?  Perhaps a creature of Purgatory?  A demon?  A—”

“What did you mean?”  The archangel surged up from where he’d been lounging with interest sparked in his eyes, “‘Not for long,’ huh?  Whatcha got planned in that mind, full of ‘free will’ Reapers _should_ be without?”

“I…” he trailed off, because while it wasn’t any of his business, the rest of the Reapers didn’t even believe Sam’s altercation with the angel was real.  “I want Existence.”

For the very first time, it appeared that he caught the angel off guard instead.

Slowly, Gabriel pronounced, “You want Existence?   _Why_ the _fuck_ would you want to be a measly human when you’ve got immortality in a nice, neat bow?  How do you know what kind of human you’d be?  What if you end up at the Gates?”

“I don’t think I would,” Sam shrugged honestly, “and if I did?  I’d deserve them.  At least I’d stop seeing their faces.  The pain, the heartbreak, the devastation…it’s too much, Gabriel.  You wouldn’t understand.”

“Huh,” he huffed out and pulled the Reaper downward to sit with him, patting his cheek to get his attention.  “Where the hell did you come from?  They broke the mold when they made you, kid.  Reapers aren’t supposed to feel.  You’re already sounding like a human, you—”

“What do _you_ know about humanity?” Sam accused, yet it was partially out of intrigue, because angels weren’t supposed to be stationed on Earth.  This one was as much of an anomaly as he.

“Probably more than you.”  It was a teasing statement, but right now Sam didn’t find much of anything funny.  But before he could snap back, Gabriel appeased him with, “Do you know how many have gone through with it?”

Slowly, Sam met his intense, now serious, gaze and asked, “How many?”

“Two,” he pronounced deliberately.  “And, as fate would have it, one was reborn as the child of a drug addict mother, never quite right in the head.  The other?  Stillborn.  Didn’t even get the chance.”

“How do you know these things?” Sam hadn't realized he was leaning in so closely until their knees were touching, but he didn’t care.  “How do you know so much about Reapers?”

“I know a lot about a lot of things,” Gabriel wasn’t trying to be cocky, merely stating facts.  “I believe Dad was trying to send a message with the Reaper who didn’t make it.  Maybe things are the way they are for a reason.  But He hasn’t been around for a damn long time.  And if that’s something you want, well.  I could always fuck with the timeline, or the next Reaper, if they want some kind of revenge.”

“You know,” Gabriel finished with, “if you’re stupid enough to go through with it.  I could make sure it goes off without a hitch.”

“You’d do that?  Why?  You don’t know me, why are you offering this, why are you here, why—”

The questions began spilling out, because Sam was just over and done with everything.  Nothing made sense, he was exhausted, and now there was this random archangel, not only crashing in his motel room, but ruining his track record (having previously been an upstanding Reaper) and getting him in trouble with the higher ups!  

He couldn’t do this, not anymore.  Sam felt like he was hyperventilating, maybe the angel was right and he _was_ flawed from the beginning but—

Suddenly, there were hands on his cheeks, lifting his face upward and lips on his.

Sam locked up like a stone statue, because he didn’t know _what_ to do.

Was he…being kissed?

Yes, he most definitely _was_ , because Gabriel’s mouth was moving against his and his tongue was tracing the seam of Sam’s lips.

But Sam didn’t know _how_ to kiss!  He didn’t know what physical affection or even attention felt like, this simply wasn’t done!  But Gabriel wasn’t giving up, he was even running his fingers through Sam’s hair now and, _oh—_ that felt nice.  It felt even nicer when he opened his mouth and allowed Gabriel to really kiss him, like Sam had witnessed humans do on TV—since this wasn’t something everyday humans did in public.

Maybe at a different time he would have shoved him off, demanding what the hell he was doing, but Sam had run out of fucks to give.  He hummed against the touch and let the angel pull them both down to their sides on the bed.  They were nose to nose when Gabriel eventually pulled away, but Sam didn’t want to open his eyes yet.

He knew the angel was still there because at some point he’d grabbed Gabriel’s wrists, to hold onto him, and he still had his grasp.

There was a low rumble in Gabriel's chest before he managed, “You know, I’ve never found innocence sexy before.  Except you…you’ve switched up the rule book, haven’t you?”

Sam opened his eyes with a frown and countered, “I’m not innocent, I’m a figure, a manifestation of Death, I—” but he stopped when he caught the sight of lust in Gabriel’s eyes, and that shut him up pretty damn quick.  Even then, though, Sam managed the self-deprecating, “You’re just getting worked up because you’ve never found a Reaper who’s not, quote, old and wrinkly.  Don’t think you can make me a check-mark on your list.”

He had to hold his ground, because there was something about the archangel…Sam wasn’t sure if it was the way he could speak freely, the way he was someone outside his family (which he considered Dean and Cas to be) to know his plans, or what.  But when Sam said that, Gabriel looked downright affronted.

“That’s got nothin’ to do with it, Buttercup.”  Gabriel chuckled and traced his fingers down the length of Sam’s neck.  “You’re special.  Sam, as a unique being, is special.  And too damn gorgeous.  Can I kiss you again?”

With a brow raised, he couldn’t help his eyes flickering down to Gabriel’s lips when he said, “You’re asking this time?”

“If you really think you’d be a check-mark, yeah.  I’m trying to prove a point,” his voice was low, husky and hopeful—a mix of things Sam had never dreamed to be directed towards _him_.

Which was eventually the thing that made him nod and agree, “Y-you can kiss me.”

“Fuckin’ finally!” Gabriel all but shouted, and this time straight-up tackled him.

Sam was stunned to find himself on his back, pinned down in a multitude of ways.  His hips were pressed into the mattress by the archangel straddling them, while their lips were glued together.  His wrists were pinned above his head _not_ by Gabriel’s hands, but…by grace?  It was an invisible force, warm and strong, holding him in place.  Because Gabriel’s hands…

Those were wandering—

With both a noise of surprise and a jolt, Sam tried to see what Gabriel was doing as he felt the chill of the room on his chest.  This didn't happen when he was corporeal, these sensations on his body, his skin, they stunned him!

“What?”  Gabriel asked casually, sitting back on him as he continued to unbutton his dress shirt, the tie already unknotted and hanging uselessly on either side of his neck.  “Looks like you could use a good ol’ kick back and relax.  Don’t these suits get stuffy?” he asked with his nose scrunched up.

With a slackened jaw, Sam was nearly speechless, because now Gabriel’s hot touch was caressing his naked skin and this unfamiliar intimate attentionfelt kind of wonderful.  He didn’t want it to stop, but he was still flabbergasted and offended he’d taken the liberty—!

“S-suits are normally angel dress code, as well,” Sam decided to say back, but it came out as more of a growl because of his frustration and…a _new_ form of frustration.

Was this…arousal?  He’d never experienced it before, the word _nor_ the feeling—but he’d bet money that the two were connecting, right now.

Except now, he was _scared_.  And he couldn’t move.  There was a battle happening in his mind and he had no idea what to do—

“Maybe for most angels, but I’ve gone rogue, so to speak,” Gabriel mused lightly.  “Part of the reason they didn’t believe you, was because I ditched out of Heaven centuries ago.  Probably think I’m dead.  Lucky you!”

That information pissed Sam right off.  “You could have told me that before!”

“Wasn’t the best time for a chit-chat.”  He moved just far enough to kiss down the naked skin of Sam’s neck.  “Now that I think about it, now isn’t the best time, either.”

“L-let me go.”  Sam knew his voice was shaky but his internal battle was manifesting into something visceral.

“And ruin all the fun?”  Gabriel began it playfully, but when he studied Sam, he realized just how stressed out he was.  He snapped his fingers and removed the grace, then asked with genuine concern, “Woah, now.  What’s got you all spooked?”  Even though he was frowning, because Sam could say anything, he answered his own question, “You thought… _no_ , no, no!”

He groaned and rolled off Sam, completely, “It was just gonna be a fun make-out with some teasing!  I wanted to see if I was right about that hot body under your jacket.”  Gabriel was staring at the ceiling, laying next to him.  “I wasn’t gonna push it and I'd never force you into _anything_.  You only gave me permission to kiss you, I wouldn’t go below the belt.”

Sam couldn’t believe his ears, because Gabriel sounded—regretful?  Upset?  Angry at himself that he’d bothered Sam?

“I…May I explain?” Sam whispered and boldly (for him, at least, it was nothing for angels by the looks of it) grabbed Gabriel’s hand to interlace their fingers.

“You may,” he laughed, turning his head to give Sam his full attention.

“I…told you.  I know nothing about the carnal wants of the body.  Reapers…don’t.  You should know that.  I was overwhelmed because, yeah, I enjoyed it but then…I think I experienced lust for the first time and it…” Sam’s brow furrowed, because he didn’t know whether to be distraught or interested.  “It isn’t in our nature, nor should it be.  It freaked me out.”

“Sooo…” Gabriel summarized, “You thought making out was fun.  But the second you felt a little something-something springing up in your pants, it’s over?  Because kissing is a’okay, but anything that _naturally_ follows, isn’t?”

“I’m considered a supernatural being,” Sam quickly said.  But then he amended, “It felt as though kissing was caring.  You said you’d help me, when I chose Existence.  That I’d be born safely, it was like an extension of your compassion.  But then,” Sam actually sneered, now that his frantic mind had calmed, “I don’t believe lust is an extension of worrying about my well-being.  Lust without companionship and knowledge, first, is selfish and—”

“Hey!  Don’t you go pinning this on me, Mr. Philosopher!” Gabriel made that line of thought slam to a halt.  “One, lust isn’t selfish.  Two, I wasn’t going for a quick fuck, I respect you.  I told you that you were special.  Three, there’s nothing wrong or shameful about two people exploring each other and getting to know one another through sex to begin with.  Even though that‘s _not_ what was happening.  Don‘t be judge-y because it's not your field, bucko.”

The archangel abruptly sat up and snapped his fingers again, Sam’s wardrobe back in pristine condition.  “Don’t you slut-shame me!  You’d think anyone, especially an Misericordia Reaper, would know that!”

Sam chased after him as Gabriel hopped off the bed, because all of his words made sense, and not only did Sam sound like a prude he sounded like an asshole!  Not only was he being presumptive, he was translating his _own lust_ into _blame_ and forwarding it to promiscuous norms on the other man's part.  What was wrong with him?!  “Wait, Gabriel, you’re right!  That all sounds stupid. _I_ sound stupid because that’s not what I meant.”

With a huff, Gabriel shook his head and crossed his arms.  “Wow.  Bummer, kiddo.  Thought we could spend some good quality time before you fucked yourself over into Existence.  Think I might’ve misread you, a little.”

Just as Sam saw his wings brought out in the ethereal plane with his Reaper eyes, he shook his head violently and pleaded, “I messed up, that was a dick move I was trying to organize things I’d never experienced or understood and _everything_ came out wrong,” he continued his pace of a mile a minute, blurting out, “I know you’re going to leave and there’s nothing I can do, but _please_ consider visiting me once more.”

Right before his wings spread into flight, he paused with his eyes still narrowed and shrugged.  “We’ll see.”

Then, he was gone.

Well…if that was how Sam apparently responded to the stirrings of lust, he couldn’t imagine what a disaster it would be if he felt true, needy arousal and, if anyone would have him, the concept of actual ecstasy.  Now it was his brain wondering about these things, but he was focused on Gabriel.  He wondered if Dean would explain, if he’d share what it was like, because Sam merely couldn’t comprehend, he royally _ruined_ the mood.

Now, he waited for his friend and tried to gather his bearings.  After all, tonight was the night.

The night he spilled it all and hoped they supported him…

\--------------------------------------------

“So, uh, what’s with this top-secret meeting, Sammy?” Dean asked with a grin as he suddenly appeared, directly followed by Cas into the motel room.  “I’ve had quite the night, so please don’t lay anything crazy on me!”

Sam froze in place before he even began, because…shit.  This was the definition of crazy.

“Well, there’s two things, actually,” he hesitated, wondering if he should go with the ‘different’ kind of crazy first?  “You can pick, I guess.  Both are crazy, one I think you’ll like much, much more than the other and—”

Shooting his fingers into L-shaped guns, Dean cut him off, instantly.  “Let’s go with that one!”

“Okay,” Sam chuckled, leaning against the table and made deliberate eye contact with Cas.  “You and me are gonna need liquor. Lots of liquor.”

“I…” his deep gruff voice sounded off, laced with puzzlement, but he turned to the mini-fridge and pointed out, “We may start with these?”

“Yeah.  And then raid a few more unclaimed rooms.  Good thinking, Cas!”  He eagerly rushed towards the mini-fridge and started tossing out the airplane shots one by one, making sure each of them were on the same page.

\------------------------

They’d gone through five rooms to feel a good, solid buzz, and once Dean heard Sam’s question about sex he decided show and tell was _much_ easier than explaining.  He was proud of his friend, gave him a hearty slap on the back and when Sam told him not to ask any questions, he didn’t.  But once Sam found out they were going on location?

He dove into three more vacant rooms for booze.

Castiel eagerly followed.

The motel staff would have no idea what hit them.

They stayed invisible, now that they were on the edge of drunk and didn’t need anymore liquor, when Dean led them to a damn _brothel_.  

He sauntered in, checking out the selection and announced loudly, because no one could hear, “So today is your sex-ed class, Sammy!” while rubbing his hands together.  “On your right, we have a collection of horny dudes, tossin’ money like it’s water, boozed-up enough to think they _actually_ have a chance with any of these lovely ladies.  Now, that’s what’s called thinking with your dick.  Because these women?  Are doing their jobs.  They’re not gonna fall for some burn-out giving them a barrage of single dollars and lewd comments.  Not until the hundreds start coming out and they’re led to the back.”

“What’s it like?” Sam asked innocently, “To be horny?”

Dean did a double-take, his jaw dropping and eyes bulging because…how did he answer that?!

Sam was like _his brother_!

“Uh,” he began eloquently, but by some plot twist was saved by Cas?!  What the hell!

“It’s both mental and physical.  The anatomical reaction is blood surging towards your penis and pooling there, hardening it into erectness and creating a, well, sensitive pleasure-center.”  He kept pace, even though Dean tripped over his feet and was almost taken out by a waitress.  “The mental aspect is longing, wanting, even loving stimulants and endorphins in your brain.  “Being horny” is either brought about by touch or desire, attraction to a partner, lust at a primitive level, sometimes during ovulation for a woman, backed by the need to reproduce—”

“Okay, Doctor Sexy!” Dean slapped him on the back, “Think that’s enough—”

“No, that was good information!  Thank you, Cas,” Sam flashed a smile, trying to understand his own situation.  “So none of these women want it.  They’re…inspired by money?”

“Eh, not so much _inspired_ ,” he thought aloud, as they walked around, Dean purposefully getting Sam used to some nudity even though the adorable Reaper kept dropping his gaze politely.  “Unless there’s some kind of forbidden romance happening?  She’s doing her job.  Or he.  I don’t know if they have a mixed staff in this joint, but a lot of others are getting more open about it.”

Sam silently wished that he’d been taken to one of _those_ places.

Because then he could test out whether he was attracted to the male body, the flirting style of men or just…Gabriel.  He certainly wasn’t feeling anything remotely close to attraction with these women, even though they were completely naked.

“Oo!” Excitement in both Dean’s voice and his step erupted, and he grabbed Sam and Cas’ hands to drag them into the back hall.  “Someone just dropped a grand!  That means they’re getting some!”

“Some—what?”  God, Sam was embarrassed by how clueless he was.

But as they walked through the doorways and into the hall, they barely caught one of the rooms shutting.  Dean cut that sharp left into the room, his friends following behind, Cas strangely silent and sending Sam apologetic gazes.

By the time they’d entered the room, the woman who was already decently naked was stripping the man of his pants slowly, seductively to the music.  Working on the button of his jeans and swaying her hips as she teased the zipper.  Her blonde hair cascaded downward, nearly covering her bare breasts as she helped him out of his jeans and reached into his boxers.

That was when she pulled his cock out and trailed a delicate, manicured finger down the length.

“That’s another man’s erect penis, Sam,” Castiel explained, like he was a freakin toddler.

With a heavy roll of his eyes, Sam deadpanned back, “Wow, thanks, I never would have guessed.”

He thought this was incredibly awkward, but Dean was shamelessly watching, pointing out, “Dude, it’s just like a live porno!  And it’s free, not to shabby, right?  Aw, except she’s whipping out the condom now.”  He groaned with clear disappointed to drably narrator, “Mostly definitely _not_ like a porno.”

“Aren’t you lucky Reapers can’t get STDs,” Castiel added nonchalantly, “Since you'd never—”

A hand darted out and slapped across Cas’ mouth with enough force to cause an actual _‘thwacking_ ,’ and when Sam looked over, Dean’s face was bright fucking red.  Now it was Sam’s turn for his jaw to drop because was that Cas blurting something he wasn’t supposed to say about—?  Oh, he totally had them figured out!

He’d much rather tease them to watch this chick follow this dude’s directions, Sam didn’t like the way he was treating her.  It wasn’t appealing, whatsoever.  There was this complete lack of warmth and he was ordering her around like she was the lesser.

But he was curious about one thing, and he cut Dean a break—even though there was definitely something he and Cas were hiding right then.

“Why aren’t they kissing?  Why is he just penetrating her from the back?”

“Dear fucking Christ on a cracker!” Dean over-dramatically tugged on his hair, “We need to work on _both’a_ yer terminology!  I’m not even gonna attempt dirty talk just…slang.  It's not like I hump a dictionary at night like you two!  He’s ‘bending her over and fucking her from behind,’ Sammy.”  He blew through his lips.  “And kissing isn’t part of the program.  Kissing is intimate.  You just don’t do it when you get paid for sex.”

Now Sam’s interest was piqued and he realized that this, playing out before them, did _nothing_ for him.    
  
If he took anything away from the experience, he felt that if he were in this position, he’d rather be the one receiving.  Just because he’d want to be taken care of _,_ since he didn’t have a clue as to what he was doing.  He wasn’t a girl, he never identified with a woman, but it wasn’t above him to take one's place.  His masculinity wasn’t threatened whatsoever, he realized watching the scene, that her role looked more appealing.

It was the first thing that captured his curiosity the entire night.

“So kissing,” Sam turned to Dean, “you say it’s intimate.”  Taking a shot in the dark, “Would I kiss you?”

“God, no!”  He looked horrified, “We’re like family!  Kissing is between two people who _want_ each other.  Who are either starting a relationship, who are in the comfortable middle, or are in love.  You don’t kiss someone unless you mean it, unless you’re attracted to them, unless you’re…like, _more_.  It’s not for platonic relationships, which is what we got!  So no kissing on us, ya creep!”

“More _what_?”  Sam was pushy because he needed to know why Gabriel kissed him.

“When there’s a connection.  When there’s potential.  When it’s more than sex, _could be_ more than sex,” Castiel tried to come to Dean’s rescue (who Sam was absolutely positive was his boyfriend, after all this) once more.  “As you can see, this woman is about to fake an orgasm for this customer’s benefit, in an attempt to get it over with.  You _can_ have sex without love, without kissing or the intimacy.  But you do not kiss someone without a reason, because—as we’ve just witnessed—it’s very easily avoided.”

“Huh.”  Shit, he had to think on this because now Sam was intrigued and he kind of wanted this elusive concept of _more_ …if Gabriel did.  If he hadn’t fucked everything up by his initial fears.

But their time was limited and—

“Hey,” Dean punched him in the shoulder, “Did someone steal yer first kiss, Sammy?  Are you gonna lose all your firsts?! _Please_ tell me your V-Card is gonna be a thing of the past, you prude!  Although, that would be hella awkward if it was a soul, moving on who made out with you on the way out.”

Sam gulped, because the moaning and the screaming and the dramatic ‘fucking’ (Dean said it was a better word than intercourse and other varieties) happening in the room was making it so he couldn’t make out his words.  “Could we move some place more private?  I can’t-I can’t friggin hear you!”

“You don’t like that noise?  Mm, I think it’s sexy,” Dean wiggled his brows, just to be a jerk.

Castiel abruptly growled, “I do not,” and grabbed both their shoulders and took them back to the hotel room, but this one was an upgrade.  “That was unnerving and—”

“You’re jealous.”  He leaned into Cas’ space and whispered something that Sam couldn’t hear, but it made interest spark in the other Reaper’s eyes, and Sam felt his ignorance was for the best this time.

“Who was it?” Now it was Castiel who was interested, “I haven’t heard of any Reapers in our area, unless…”

“It isn’t a Reaper…” Sam didn’t know if the truth was even worth it, since the board hadn’t believe him.  In fact, he bet Dean and Cas were just humoring him, this was all bullshit, probably.  “But I just needed to know if kissing…meant something _._  I thought going further was expected, I freaked out and said some things, accused them of some crap, when all they wanted was the first.”  
  
Sam massaged his temples and confessed with helplessness, “I just, I don’t know, guys.  I thought it was moving too fast, but it wasn’t, that wasn’t their intention at all!  I ruined it, I jumped the gun, probably scared them away for good.”

“Shit,” Dean sighed, “That’s rough too, because they’ll pass in the blink of an eye, ya know?  It’s like, we get so caught up in our job, in our assignments.  And then, before we know it, the human we met is either old and gray or…gone.”

Sam worried his bottom lip before he finally drudged up the confidence to divulge, “Not…this one.”

Castiel and Dean turned their entire bodies, their gazes, and Sam was pinned by the pressure.  “What?  What does _that_ mean?”

“I…” he swallowed hard.  “I don’t think they’ll want me to give them up.  They’re in hiding and—”

“Oh, stop that shit!  We tell each other anything and _everything_!” Dean protested, as Castiel added, “We have no secrets, Sam.  And we tell no one else our secrets, you know that, and it’s unconditional.  What on Earth are you talking about?”

Taking in the deepest inhale, on the exhale Sam blurted all at once, “It was the angel who kept me from ushering that soul at the hospital, the damn angel who healed her.  The one no one believes me about!  But they're real they…offered to help me with something.  The second thing that I need you to know about.  And…they kissed me.  Then _asked_ if they could kiss me again and things got heated and _I_ freaked out!”

The couple looked between one another, completely lost and baffled.

“You.  Innocent little Sammy.  Seduced an _angel_?” Dean leaned in with his forearms on his thighs in sheer disbelief.

“No, not at all,” Sam snorted.  “Ironically?  That damn angel seduced me.  I felt…lust.  It terrified me.  I stopped everything.  I…hurt them with accusations.  I needed your help tonight.  I believe I learned many things, logistically, that I needed to.  I’d like to see them again.”

“You know you can pray and get their attention, correct?” Cas offered up, then his own interest caught and he inquired, “You continually say ‘them.’  Are you embarrassed?”

“I don’t know…”  Was he?  He shouldn’t be.  Dean and Cas were together, so why should Sam be ‘in the closet?’  Or was he, in a way, still simply protecting Gabriel’s identity?  He didn’t know anymore.  “He’s an angel.  And when we were at the club, the women, even though they were all practically naked, it didn’t do it for me.  Even the man.  I think…it may only be _him_.  But I’m still nervous about sexual encounters.”

“Take a shower after we talk about the second thing.  Explore.  Jerk off in there.  I did that centuries ago,” Filterless Dean shrugged without preamble.  “Figure out stuff ya like _before_ you have a playmate.  Living forever ain’t fun unless you find that special someone, ya know?  We…we’ve got a step-up.  We spend a lot of time corporeal where other Reapers think it’s a law to avoid.  We’re all about the _loopholes_ , and those loopholes allow us human bodies and human pleasure,” he flashed a smirk.  “So explore, pray, repeat.  Sounds like this angel really got to you, huh?”

“God, Dean!” Sam dramatically covered his ears, “You can’t just _say_ things like that!”

“Why not?”  He stuck out his bottom lip, “I’m just trying to help!  Don’t be afraid of sex.  It’s fuckin’ awesome, dude!”

Sam smacked his head against the table, then needed brain bleach because he saw the pair playing footsie under the table.  Did it _ever_ end?!

“All right, what’s this other objective?” Castiel brought up, “I’ve gotten fond of sleep lately.  I believe I’ll be doing it after we speak,” he admitted.

“Maybe it should wait until tomorrow.  I know you said you guys had a rough night and I really don’t want to ruin it…” Sam ran a hand through his hair.  “But thanks for the field trip.  It was…insightful.”

“Hey, next time you wanna—”

“No!” Sam and Cas blurted in tandem.

“Okay, okay, gotcha guys, loud and clear,” Dean hung his head and then turned to Cas, “Ready to hit it?”

With a warm, fond smile, he nodded.  “Of course, Dean.”

After they left, Sam just shook his head in disbelief, because this _was_ the proof.  They were head over heels, they were together and there was no denying it.  Damn, was he happy for them.  Reapers in love?  It was a _joke_ , but it was more than that.  The fact that it happened, despite the odds made it utterly _perfect_ and a thing of beauty.  Now, Sam had to figure out the best way to deliver his own news.  And figure out if he’d see Gabriel again.  And see if he could overcome his fear of lust.

Shit, all this would be tricky…


	4. Chapter Three

The truth was bound to come out sooner or later.  Sam wanted to do it on his own terms.  Those terms included somewhere public, where the others couldn’t freak out and make a scene because this was _heavy._ Not to mention, said freak out was bound to happen sooner or later.

He called them to their favorite coffee shop, and even though Cas was out on a mission, Sam was still going to go through with it because he was all fired up before he knew he’d be out a friend.  He supposed telling Dean would be the hard part.  Hell, he could probably relay the message to Cas, since he was so chatty and they were…whatever they were.  Yeah, Sam was never gonna be this keyed up again.

Not to mention, Sam was caffeinated.  He was very, _very_ caffeinated, and when Dean showed up he gave him the side-eye, asking, “How many shots of espresso does it take to tweak out a Reaper?”

“Is this, like, a joke with a punch line?” Sam raised an eyebrow, cradling his coffee with interest.

“No, I just wanna know how to avoid _that_ ,” he pointed a finger at Sam and shook his head.  “Looks like yer gonna jump out of your skin, dude!  Now, what’s up?  Last SOS you were drunk and it was about the beautiful art of fucking.   _This_ SOS you’re over-caff—”

“Not so loud, Dean!” he admonished, since the other Reaper had no shame as he dropped into the seat across from him.

Dean still had the balls to grin and ask, “So did you have the chance to test out any of what you learned?  Make sure the pipes were workin’?  Or are you still in the beginning stages of finding the courage?  Remember, all it takes is a prayer!”

With an eye roll, Sam admitted, “I wanted to get this off my chest first.  Since I was planning on it, before our impromptu…field trip.”

“Go on.  I’m ready,” Dean crossed his arms on the table, but then looked around carefully and when the coast was clear, snapped up his own coffee.  “Lay it on me!”

“This _isn’t_ some random choice.  I’ve been thinking about it for a while.  A damn long while.  It’s been on my mind for decades, but lately it’s all I can think about when I’m alone.  Only you and Cas can take my mind off it, actually,” he smiled something soft at Dean, because their friendship honestly was the only thing that saved him from insanity.  He went on to emphasize, “You can’t get upset.  It’s something I want, more than freakin’ anything.  Because I’m tired, I’m so tired of death and horror and I’m drained.  I’m running on E, I _can’t_ keep this up.”

Dean was wary, because there were very few, limited places this could go.  And none of them were good.  He was actually feeling sick, because if a Reaper was ‘done,’ he could request an audience with Death, himself.  Then he’d be Reaped with Death’s Scythe—the _only_ thing strong enough to kill a Reaper.  That’s when _panic_ set in and Dean began blabbering, refusing to lose his best friend.

“You’re not meeting with Death are you?  God, Sammy, we _can_ work through this!  I-I can be there when you have souls to escort, I’ll help you, I can do the dirty work when shit gets rough, and make it easier, just please—!”

“No, no,” Sam quickly assured him and reached across the table, because Dean looked terrified.  “I’m…I want Existence.”

And while Dean sighed a heavy breath that Sam wasn’t killing himself, this—well, it wasn’t much better.  It was finite, it was weighted, it was practically unheard of.  Hell, a Reaper would choose a meeting with Death over Existence, any day of the week!  Why would Sam…

“I don’t understand.” Dean was baffled, that was all he could come up with.

“I told you.  I’m tired of this.  And I…want to be human,” he exhaled, finally being able to say the words aloud, no longer a dark secret was gratifying.  “I want to be able to be able to _choose_ freely, to _love_ freely, to _think_ freely.  Even if I make the wrong choices, they're mine to make.  Emotions and the power of love, family, the way they live out their short lives, some like there’s no tomorrow because in some instances, there isn’t.  It’s _beautiful_.  Even the heartbreak, the tragedy, the pain, it’s something we’re protected from, on the outside watching from a distance.

“I’m sick of being protected.  I want to _feel_ these things from a raw human body.  I want to make a difference in the world, I want free will,” Sam blurted out in pure excitement.  Now that he was on a roll, that’s all there was—sheer joy when he spoke about it—and he couldn’t contain it!

Dean took in every word and yeah, maybe all of that sounded pretty damn awesome, but there were so many things, too many negative options that outweighed the good.  Or at least he felt that way.

“Sammy, that picture you painted?  It’s fuckin’ _great_.  If that was all it is, dude, I’m down.  But when you’re born you’re gonna forget everything about being a Reaper, and while that’s probably hunky-dory with you, what about me and Cas, who you left behind?  You’re gonna forget _us_.  That…hurts.  That hurts somethin’ awful, Sammy.  Then what about death?  What about when someone comes to reap you?  You’re tossed into Heaven and _gone_.  And if it’s me reaping you?  Fuck _,_ that’d _kill_ me.  Then...you're just a memory.”

Sam’s smile hadn’t weaned when he said, “You don’t think I’ve thought about all that?  I’ve looked at it from every angle.  Each pro and con.  Everything that would be negative and positive.  And that’s why…” he chewed his lip, features set with this fierce determination, “Dean.”

“Yeah, buddy?” he was concerned about the tone, it wasn’t…Sam.

After a beat of hesitance, he finally spit out in one breath, “I want you and Cas to come with me.  Would you think about it at least?  Consider it?”

With a jerk back, Sam’s grip on his arm unrelenting, Dean was conflicted right away.  “I’ve, uh…never even _thought_ about Existence.  In my entire ‘life.’  This is extreme, Sam.”

“But you’re not as freaked out as I thought you’d be!”  There was so much relief in his voice and elation, “I thought you’d yell, berate me, call me insane, but…you _haven’t_.  Thank you.  God, _thank you_ for proving me wrong.”

“Hey, this is something you’re passionate about.  Ain’t no way I’m gonna toss any shit in your direction.  That’s not what friends do.”  With a slight pause, he admitted, “I dunno about the whole thing though.  I know you’ve thought about it, but this was just a random thing, sprung on me, dude.  I…” Dean ran his free hand through his hair.  “You know I’d do anything for you, Sammy.  This is _really—_ ”

“Huge.  I know.  But I need you to know that I’m doing it.  I think within the month.  I’m going to meet Singer, he’s the only one who knows how to perform the ceremony.  And that doesn’t give you a lot of time to think.  But _I_ can’t keep doing this.  I can’t handle another week of reaping the innocent souls who don't fucking deserve it and make me question everything.  I can't anymore, it haunts me, Dean.  And the only reason I’m giving it a month instead of diving in tomorrow,” Sam’s expression was forced as he divulged, “is because I was hoping you and Cas would join me.  That it would be enough time to think about it, and hopefully come with me.”

Dean nodded and showed nothing but support, “I know you need this.  You’re right, you’re getting worn down.  I can see it, you know?  Over the centuries, you’ve gone downhill, slowly but surely.  I’ve got two best friends, and there’s nothing I can do to fix you, no matter how hard I try, no matter how bad I wish I _could_.”  His eyes never left Sam’s and agreed with heart, “This may be the fix you need.  To start over.  Something away from death and reaping.”

Sam grinned and tilted his head, eyes wide in sheer disbelief.  “You surprise me every day.  You’re amazing, Dean.  Thank you.”

“Ya gotta stop thanking me!  Yer the one who's making moves and fixing yourself!  I got nothing to do with it!  And…” he promised, refusing to break the eye contact, “I _will_ really, really think about it.  Cas will be the tough customer.”

“That’s why I was hoping you may be able to deliver the news?”  It was a tense question, one he capped off with, “I already know about you two.  Which means he’d take it much better from you.  You’d be able to get through to him better than me.  But he means just as much to me.”

With a raised brow, Dean asked, completely unimpressed, “You want _me_ to seduce a _Probitas_ Reaper into _Existence_?  That, right there, is the biggest bullshit mission I—”

“I didn’t say seduce!” Sam flashed his puppy eyes, “I mean, just talk it out.  You know his language, I know he’d do nothing but argue with me, but you can give it back just as good.  Hell, you two became friends through a damn fight!  Please?”

After some thought and the desperate hope on Sam’s face, as a last ditch effort, Dean acquiesced.  “Fine, fine!  I’ll use my moves and linguistics to get through to him.  Yer lucky you’ve got me!”

“I know.”  Sam looked absolutely thrilled.  “And I really hope you come with me.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I _am_ a hot commodity, huh?” he winked and then paused, receiving a message over Reaper Radio.  “Shit, gotta take off.  Got a rough one.  House fire that spread to three others,” he stood up and circled the table to ruffle Sam’s long hair.  “We’ll make this right, kiddo.  Hang in there, stick to your plan because I can tell.  This is gonna make you happy.”

He flashed him a smile right before he disappeared.

Sam’s heart was beating a mile a minute because he would have never anticipated how perfectly that went.  He always underestimated Dean, because of the facade he wore, sometimes the Lepos Reaper persona followed him back—but at his core he was just…amazing.

This was _really happening_ and it sounded like Dean was veering towards joining him, especially because he wanted to push Castiel in that direction as well?  God, Sam was thrilled!  He couldn’t describe it in words but in feelings.  And soon, he would have even _more_ feelings, he’d have what he wanted all along.

Now, maybe he’d even get up the courage to pray, since it was a go, and there were others Gabriel may need to watch over and make sure they were born without a hitch.  If the archangel too wasn’t upset with him.  Regardless, he needed to make things right, and soon.

There was only a month of Reaping left.  The countdown was on.

\----------------------------------

This hotel meet-up was becoming a trend, but Castiel supposed it was because of the timing.  Yet, when Dean reached out after his job was finished he seemed…distraught?  No one else would have noticed, but over the centuries, even when Sam and Dean thought Cas was ignorant, he was not.  He noticed ever tiny lilt, every nuance in their voice.

And just as Sam wanted to speak about two things the previous night?  Dean played ignorant, but Castiel could tell the other subject was something he wasn’t merely ‘blowing off,’ he was putting it off because it was something dire, something very serious.  Those types of conversations, Dean had a penchant to avoid.

The discussion with Dean about sex, intercourse, and flirting was in the Reaper’s wheelhouse, so even though there was more to Sam's story, he dismissed it.  Cas was biding his time.  He needed to figure out a day—preferably a lunch ’date’ as the other two reapers called them, to bring it up with Sam.  Because it didn’t appear he would do it on his own.

This happened, from time to time, their “busy season.”

Unfortunately, when fall transformed into winter and seasonal affective disorder kicked in, there was a surplus of suicides.  They continued through the holidays and into the new year.  It was during these months that the three were so busy, they normally didn’t have time to get together until spring.

While Castiel had reaped twelve souls today, (he had no idea what the other man’s count was) Dean found it imperative to meet.  Even though spring was basically the blink of an eye to immortals, again—Cas knew this was important.

Which was why, at three in the morning, he found himself in a suite at a luxurious hotel (rather than motel) and staring at Dean’s back as he paced in front of the window.  He was looking out onto the cityscape, his arms crossed with one hand lifted and scratching his chin.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel announced his arrival, then admitted, “This is…very nice.  Is there an occasion?” because that was the second thing on his mind—perhaps he’d forgotten something?

When Dean spun around, he was a bit surprised, but shrugged his shoulders with a casual laugh.  “To be honest?  All the motels are here were trash.  Didn’t think it would hurt to see if something nice was open for three death scouts to pop in and relax in for a little bit.”  He made a grand gesture with his arms, “Do you like it?”

Castiel took the time to examine it, but to be honest, he never found himself enjoying the guilty pleasures of humanity and their luxury as Dean did.  Dean was very… _physical_.  He enjoyed immensely what God had created, what humans had constructed.  He loved the finer things, the sensations of liquor, he loved to touch and experience things in his corporeal form.  Sam was more in the middle.  He appreciated class and being one with the humans from time to time, while Dean partook in their world more than any other Reaper Castiel had heard of.

But he wanted to make Dean happy.  Without lying…

“I enjoy the space, as opposed to the small motel rooms.  The design is interesting and it’s very open,” he nodded in acknowledgement.

“Wanna know the best part?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows.  

Cas opened his mouth to answer, but the other Reaper had already launched himself from where he was standing and tackled him to a plush, incredibly soft mattress that seemed to engulf the pair of them.  Castiel couldn’t help but laugh and agree, “This _may be_ the best part.”  

He kissed Dean’s forehead and then rolled them around so they were looking at one another.  “Now, tell me what you wished to speak with me about?”

“Who said I wanted to talk…” His voice was lewd and trying to avoid the subject.

With a roll of his eyes, Cas prompted, “You told me.  Point blank.  There was something on your mind.  Let go of your Lepos and work with me.  You never know how much time we have before one of us has to go on assignment.”

For some odd reason, that last sentence made Dean recoil, the part about leaving?  Castiel reached out and took Dean’s hand, wondering if he needed some kind of reassurance; then looked him in the eyes, because his were cast downward and flickering back and forth, collecting his thoughts.

Cas squeezed his hand in support and lowered his voice to something tender, stating, “You know you can tell me anything, Dean.  What’s on your mind?”

He finally looked up, meeting Cas’ eyes and drew in a heavy breath.  “Sammy.  I-I got to talk with him.  It was when you were taking that call in Ohio and you couldn’t join but…I think I’m gonna lose him, Cas.   _We’re_ gonna lose him!  And it scares the fuck out of me and—”

“Why would we lose him?” Castiel’s brows instantly furrowed, “Where is he going?  Perhaps he’s merely upset about the admonishment with the angel.  Maybe your assistance in that…realm, has helped him.  I—”

“No…Cas,” Dean’s voice was quivering.  “Just listen to me for a second.  This is what Sam told me okay?”

Cas merely nodded and scooted closer, hoping his proximity helped Dean even a little bit.

“He said it’s just too much.  I've known him forever, hell, even longer than you.  And I've watched him, you know?  Over the years, he was good at it.  He could handle it, no problem.  But lately?  He's told be before that the faces he reaps stays with him until the next one—and they haunt him."  Dean quickly demanded, "Did you know about Crossroads Demons?  I didn't, until he told me because it falls into _his_ territory.  These humans, they know so little about the contracts they sign, most are good, honest people, Cas!  They end up in Hell because of demon deals, black-eyed fuckers who come collecting, ten years in!  Can you believe that?!  So he _has_ to abide by the rules, because that’s what the human got into.  He can’t deal with it anymore and…”

Dean huffed and pressed his forehead against Cas’, “He loves them.  He loves their imperfections, he loves that they live to the fullest.  Even if it’s a short time, free will, making your own choices, and then being reaped he—”

Castiel abruptly pulled away because… _no_ …

“You’re not saying what I think you’re saying?!” he demanded in his low, dark voice.

“Hey, he’s a Misericordia Reaper.  So far, it’s done nothing but fuck him up.  He stands for mercy, pity, compassion, sympathy.  And humanity.  That humanity part?  Guess he’s been thinking about it for a _damn_ long time.  Longer than we’d ever know.  Cas, he _wants_ Existence.  More than anything.  And I don’t know what I’ll do without him.”

Castiel was baffled; he was confused and shaken as he took the other Reaper into his arms, because the tension and the fear in Dean was causing him to curl up on himself and he needed him.  Existence…the Reaper equivalent to an Angel’s Fall.  He wouldn’t remember anything, he wouldn’t remember _them_ , nor what they’d built over the years and—

“Cas…if he goes, I think I...I gotta go,” Dean finally blurted, glancing up to see a pair of impossibly wider eyes.  “Come with us?”

“No.”  The word was out of his mouth before he could even think to stop it.  “I mean, Dean…you’re doing this on a whim of Sam’s!  You’re not even concerned about your own future, your own well being!  You can’t throw yourself in the line of fire because—”

“I’d do it for you …” his voice was barely above a whisper.  “Cas, if you wanted it, I’d do it in a heartbeat.  I love you both.  More than I love myself.  If either of you made a choice, I’d be supportive, I’d be there for you and—”

“Dean,” Cas was now freaking out and trying to stress, “You’ll forget me _._  If you chose Existence, you’re a blank slate.  Everything we’ve done, everything _we are_ , what we‘ve been through…it’s _gone_.  I don’t know how you could throw us away.”

“It’s not about throwing us away!” Dean said with a sudden urgency, trying not to shout, “It’s about Sammy not having to be alone.  I…“ the massive sigh and the amount of eye contact was disconcerting and Dean confessed, “Cas.   _Please_ , I want... just come with us.”

Even the thought offended him at his core, he had to pull up as mask so quickly that he didn’t hurt Dean’s feelings because he was here, laying himself bare, his eyes practically begging.  Apparently, the silence went on too long, because Dean started again:

“I _don’t_ want you to be alone.  I-I _don’t_ want to leave you.  We’d all be in this together, we’d find each other again” he stressed, pulling him closer by his hand.  He fumbled over his words, pleading, “I can’t live without you.  I can’t live without _either_ of you.  And Existence is just that— _living_.  We wouldn’t be surrounded by death, day in and day out, we could make something of ourselves, experience the human condition to the fullest and—”

“Die a short life.  Be reaped.  End up in your final destination, pray that you don’t find yourself in a position during that short life that leaves you in an eternity of suffering in Hell.”  His words were almost callous, because he didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing.  Right now, Castiel was expressing his feelings, not trying to talk Dean out of it, but it may as well be the same thing.  “I don’t…wish for any part of that.”

Dean wilted, because a part of him knew that Castiel actually _enjoyed_ his job, or at the very least didn’t want a change.  Let alone something so drastic.  Hell, Dean knew because of his line of souls he never saw the bright side, the clever, fun, genuine side of humanity—he constantly saw the bad, because _those_ were his assignments.    
  
Castiel delivered soul after soul to Hell, it only made sense he wouldn’t wish to join an Earth populated by those types of humans.  His perception his skewed and how could they prove to him humanity wasn’t like that?  That Cas had the minority?  They weren’t being reborn in a world populated by nothing but rapists, murderers and unrepentant, self-serving addicts, those Castiel was familiar with.  Dean and Sam knew it already, which was why they longed for it.

“So…there’s no thinking about this, huh?” Dean felt the defeat creep in and his eyes fell from Castiel’s because he knew.

He just knew.

“I can’t talk you out of it?”  It was Castiel’s turn to beg, grabbing Dean’s chin and demanding his focus.  “Anything.  Tell me _anything_ and I’ll do it.  I need both of you here with me, I’ve…grown accustomed to you.  I never thought I would need companionship.   Never.  But I don’t know what would happen if you left and I’d have to watch you grow old from the shadows and pass away.  Dean, you know a Reaper isn’t allowed beyond the gates.”

He implored to the Lepos Reaper, “You’d be lost to me.  Forever.  Even if I made contact with you when you were human, after you’re reaped?  You’re out of my reach.  Gone.  W-We’re _blocked_ from Heaven and Hell, we can’t enter the gates, either of them.  You know that.”

It almost seemed as though that was the first time Dean really, truly thought about _those_ certain ramifications.  “That’s why you have to go with us!  Don’t be stubborn, Cas, you got to—!”

Castiel abruptly sat up from the mattress and away from Dean’s pleading because he couldn’t stand it.  His world was crumbling and he couldn’t do a damn thing.  He knew that Dean would do anything for Sam, just as he would do anything for _him_ , but in this instance _Sam_ needed Dean more than anything.

Still, Castiel was about to lose everything.

All because Sam and Dean were his everything.

Dean followed and wrapped his arms around him from behind, holding onto him for dear life.  “Please.  Please.   _You_ need… _I need_ …”  He shook his head and rested his weight against Cas’ back, his body trembling with anxiety and nerves about the future, because it was looking pretty damn bleak.

Castiel wouldn’t let himself fall to the human’s level.  That wasn’t what he wanted, it was the _last_ thing he wanted.  He told Dean in very certain terms, “You are the one who needs to think long and hard about this choice, Dean,” before he disappeared, leaving the Reaper flailing forward from where he was using Cas’ body to lean against.

He couldn’t be there anymore, he couldn’t watch Dean fall apart because he knew he was on the brink.  Castiel needed to get out of there.  He also needed to find a random location he couldn’t be followed by either Reaper.  So he located a tropical beach, just far enough away from the tourists so he had privacy to think.  Yes, this was the very last place they’d come looking.

Maybe Castiel was shaken as well, maybe he needed to calm down from his own potential breakdown.

He didn’t know if he could truly make it without Sam and Dean.  How did they get here?  And how could he change their minds?  It was an impossible task, because once they set their sights on something, they’d never turn back.  But in this instance, they _had_ to, Cas was on his own mission to open their eyes to how idiotic this idea was!

Existence was the most foolish thing a Reaper could do.  He couldn’t let them!


	5. Chapter Four

Prayer was something new, because prayer went along with God’s first creations.  A direct link to the deity and something that Reapers never had time for, nor wanted dealings with.  Their jobs were dedicated to humans, angels didn’t fit in the puzzle.  But if this angel was already accounted for as dead, what did it matter?  It was an interesting concept, all by itself.

Just as Sam was growing weary, worried that it wasn’t going to work he collapsed down on the motel bed and stared at the ceiling.  Dean had sent him a message and it wasn’t good.  Apparently, not only did Castiel not approve, but he was trying his hardest to dissuade both Sam _and_ Dean from going through with it.  
  
While Dean’s reaction and encouragement had been the best reaction Sam could have hoped for, Castiel was the worst-case-scenario.  Expecting Sam to suffer through reaping was a joke.

“Heh, as if that’s happening,” Sam grumbled to himself.

“Mm, which part?”

The voice scared the shit out of him and he jolted upright in the bed, staring down a certain archangel with his legs crossed at the foot of it.  Of course, he’d wait for a grand entrance, of course, he’d wait until the very last minute!

“Well, one of my friends is coming with me,” Sam repeated part of his prayer aloud, “And I was hoping—”

“That I could make sure both of you made it to toddler-hood, yeah, yeah.  What’s the rest of it?  Because there was a _good_ part, but right now you’re looking bummed.  What’s that about?”  Gabriel could read him like a book, and Sam didn’t know when that happened.

With a heavy sigh, he said, “There’s three of us.  We’ve been best friends since…forever.  We support each other, spend time together, we’ve got this relationship none of the Reapers understand.  We’d do anything for one another.  And when I _finally_ got up the courage and told one of my friends, he really didn’t bat an eye.  Like, it wasn't even a choice for him.  He’d do _anything_ for me, but the other…”

Gabriel noticed how crestfallen Sam’s body language read, and he finished, “Wasn’t as keen about it.”

“Understatement.”  Sam groaned, “He’s trying, fighting like hell to change our minds.  But my mind _can’t_ be changed.  So it’s really all up to Dean.  I won’t be mad, who he chooses to side with, but currently it looks like he’s coming with me.”

“What’s this Reaper’s name?” he asked out of curiosity.

Or it appeared out of curiosity, but Sam was wary because he knew the archangel always had something up his sleeve.  Even so, he replied carefully, “Castiel.  He’s a Probitas Reaper.  Always sees the bad parts of humanity and that’s why he’s so against it.  I don’t blame him but I want him to be with us.   _So_ badly.  We’re never apart, we do everything together, we’re…” he put so much emphasis on the word, felt it in his bones and his voice cracked, “W-we’re _family_.”

While Gabriel’s expression softened for a moment to say, “It’ll all work out, kiddo.  It always does, just the way it was meant to.  And I’ll offer who ever comes through safe passage,” a grin appeared the next second out of shameless intrigue, and to distract the forlorn Reaper.  “I heard you went on a _fieldtrip_?”

“Yes.”  Sam was open, honest and had _no idea_ this topic required any level of tact—which Gabriel was over the moon about.  “We went to a brothel, because I didn’t understand sex.  It was my friend’s idea and I believe I have a better conceptual view about it.  Even though what we viewed seemed forced,” he reported.

Sam went on to state, “Even though the nudity and sexuality was abundant, even the intercourse in the private rooms it…didn’t give me the same reaction as when I was with you.  I can’t come up with the proper hypothesis.  At first, I wondered if it was women I didn’t find appealing, but then there was the man in the private room and—”

“Oh my Dad, _you_ are a treat!”  Gabriel sprung up from the bottom of the bed, adoring the lack of shame as the Reaper orally tried to collect his thoughts.  “You weren’t attracted by nudity, which usually inspires a feeling of desire.  And watching sex?  Like a porno?   _That’s_ the kind of material you jerk off to.”

Gabriel was sitting right next to him, Sam’s heart was picking up in speed and he could feel the stirring of…something.  He had to say it, to figure it out.  “Am I broken?  Because even now, your proximity is making me nervous.  Like I want you to touch me, but maybe you shouldn’t.  I don’t understand, because I feel more…so-called ‘desire,’ remembering the last time I saw you than watching that couple have sex.”

With a wide smirk, Gabriel tried to take this a step at a time, he didn’t want to freak Sam out _or_ push him away because this was a learning experience.  No matter how bad he wanted him and _fuck_ , did he _want him_.  He needed to handle this in the way Sam was logically piecing things together.

“That just means you’re attracted to me, and that’s a’okay, because I’m attracted to you.  It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  It’s actually _damn_ crazy for a Reaper to experiencing any of these hungers at all.  You’re unique.  Once you’re human, you’re going to be a giant, freakin’ massive ball of hormones and sexual energy.  It’s all a huge part of the human condition—sex and love.”  Gabriel saw how Sam took in his every word.

“If we’re mutually attracted to each other, and it felt…kind of fantastic to kiss you…is the rest, well, intense?  Is it too much?  I’m concerned about—” Sam looked down as Gabriel grabbed his hand and squeezed.

“Hey, I’m all about taking it slow while you’re still a Reaper.  I could even find ya when you’re all grown up on Earth.  You just tell me, Sammy.  Ball’s in your court, it’ll always be in your court.”  He was oddly supportive, and Sam appreciated that.

He wanted to know and feel what Dean and Castiel knew and felt.  Because he knew damn well those two weren’t keeping their hand to themselves!

“All right.”  Sam decided with a finality, “Show me.”

With a tilt of the head, he teased, “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he confirmed back

“Well, okay, then!  I can do that,” Gabriel’s grin finally quirked on the mischievous side and he promised, running his tongue along the shell of Sam’s ear, “I’m gonna make this so good for you,” and a shiver ran through him.  “But first…” he pulled away and looked Sam in the eyes.  “I know this is new.  Still, drop all the formalities?  Yesh!  The way you’re talking, it reminds me of my brothers and sisters who’ve never been on Earth!  I know it’s probably a safety net, but just _relax_ , okay?  Just be…you.”  Gabriel cupped his cheek and pressed, “I’ve seen you chilled out, or even taken off guard.  You're probably _way_ more chilled out when you’re hanging with you friends.  This, right here, there’s no room for awkward prim and proper language, yeah?”

Sam nodded slowly and agreed, “Yeah, you’re right—I think it is a safety net.  When I’m around anyone but Dean and Cas…when I’m supposed to _act_ like a Reaper, I fall back into what’s expected?  I guess with angels, too.”  His eyes kept flickering down to Gabriel’s lips.  “I, uh, can do that, I think.”

“Prove it,” Gabriel ran a hand through Sam’s hair and roughly tugged on it, which made the Reaper moan unexpectedly.  “Tell me what you want without sounding like a dictionary.  I’ll see if you can convince me.”

“I’ve gotta convince you now?”  Sam snorted, but to be honest?  This was much easier, Gabriel wasn’t like Reapers, he was much more _social—_ just like Dean was, and he comfortable with the familiarity.  “I want you to show me what I’ve been missing out on.  You said you wanted me, the feeling is mutual and I wanna experience it before I’m gone.”

Sam didn’t stop there, he found confidence in the way Gabriel was biting his lip and the way his eyes were dilating with lust.  “I feel like you’ll take care of me.  Show me a good time.  You’ve been around long enough, I’ve got high expectation,” he even challenged, grabbing Gabriel forearm and tracing it until he had his wrist.  “Think you can do that?”

“Fuck yes,” it came out with pure want overwhelming his voice.  “But before we do anything, you’ve gotta tell me how far you wanna take this.”  He let Sam manipulate his hand until it was back against his cheek.  “Or, hell, give me a safe word.  Last thing I want to do is push you.”

“I’ll tell you if we need to stop.  But…” Sam pursed his lips together, feeling propelled from the memory, “When we were watching that couple fucking?  The only thing that _remotely_ affected me was how he bent her over.  How she was taking it from behind.  How _I_ wanted that.”

“Phew,” Gabriel shook his head, downright shocked that Sam was bold enough to admit it.  “So you’re _wanting_ to go all the way?  I’m surprised.  Especially since, I gotta be honest, last time even making out freaked you out.”

“Because I was in the dark.  I didn’t know what happened next, I told you I thought you may push and I wasn’t ready.  Even though that’s the last thing you’d do.  But now I understand.  I’ve been, well...‘educated,” Sam laughed out loud and then, even more surprisingly, made the first move.

He reached out and looped his arms around Gabriel’s neck, closing the distance and kissing him hard.  Now that he’d been shown the ropes, he didn’t bother waiting to lick into the archangel’s mouth.  Gabriel moaned into the touch and grabbed the back of Sam’s neck while the other pulled them even closer together.

Both had the first taste and were now addicted.  The pair loved this already, and when Sam’s erection pressed against his dress pants he was no longer afraid.  He didn’t have an internal crisis like he did or would have last time, he embraced it.

Gabriel was panting as he pulled away and made Sam know, “You’ve _gotta_ be loud about me stopping.  Because, God, I’m already raring to go, kid.  Let me undress you?  Feel your skin against mine?”

With an eager nod, Sam had assumed that the angel would take his time, removing article after article.  He hadn’t been expecting a snap, and with it their clothes gone completely.  Sam was pretty fucking sure he yelped.  But two _glorious_ things happened.

Gabriel’s talented mouth nipped and sucked down his torso, and their cocks were rutting together—leaving Sam a mess already because he’d never, ever experienced _this_.  He choked around all the sensations, already overwhelmed and Gabriel glanced up, right after he’d sucked one nipple into hardness.

“You still all right up there?” he emphasized it with a rock of his hips, Sam moaning unabashedly.

“I-I’ve never felt this.  Anything like it—” he whimpered the confession.

Gabriel was even more intrigued, and couldn’t help but ask, as he reached down to fist both their cocks together, thumbing their precum down the lengths for a little lubrication, “You’ve never even touched yourself?”  He wasn’t judging, he learned that was the quickest way to piss the Reaper off.

With a gasp and an abrupt head shake, Sam fought through the overwhelming touch.  “I’m surrounded in death, day in and day out.  Reapers…the last thing on their mind, _ever_ , is desire.  I have never.  M-my two friends, who’ve worked towards a romance for _centuries,_ are the only pair of Reapers I can think of who’ve indulged.  It’s not in the job deception.”  He thrust up into Gabriel touch and groaned out, “Holy hell, that feels amazing—”

“We haven’t even gotten to any of the main events!”  Then, with a pause, Gabriel had to ask, “How long do you have?  I wanna keep you here all night.  I want to show you how many ways I can make you feel good.  So much you’ve been missing out on, Sammy.”

He crawled down Sam’s body further until he was licking at the slit of Sam’s cock, waiting for an answer.  By the time he sucked hard on the head, Sam was overwhelmed and had to remember the question.

“I-I can stay here until they send me over a job…I can come back,” he could barely form the words.  “I’d like to come back.  It would help me after the escorted soul.  I always hit a pit that’s hard to c-climb out of.  If you have time to wait for me, _oh God —_ ” he shouted out as Gabriel took the entire length of Sam’s cock down his throat.

He tried not to squirm, not to buck up into the tight heat as Gabriel swallowed him down but it was…perfect.  It was so foreign and remarkable, and another brand-new sensations overwhelmed him; he didn’t know what it was but he could feel something building up?  As Gabriel bobbed up and down on Sam’s cock, he writhed and screamed his name without shame.  But he was curious:

“Something…I feel something _intense_ coming…” Sam blurted out, and the second he did, Gabriel pulled off his cock with a pop.

He couldn’t help but grin when he explained, “That’s a sign that _I_ need to stop, because I’m too damn good,” Gabriel winked, “Means your orgasm is in the wings.”

Sam’s eyes doubled in size and he balked, “Already?”

“First times are usually pretty quick.  It’s not your fault,” Gabriel crawled up Sam’s body and kissed him.  “Which was why I wanted to spend the whole night with you.”  

He nipped at his neck and dropped his voice to a hoarse, desperately wanting level, “Want to suck you off and make you cum down my throat.  I wanna mark you from head to toe and eat your ass out.  I wanna fuck you all night, over and over, because I _know_ you can take it.  Shit, there’s so much I want.  Tell me I’m not alone?”

The words, which Sam knew as ‘dirty talk’ made his pulsing hard dick twitch and his face blush a faint pink.  God, that sounded…like everything he wanted and more.

“Yes, please, _yes_!” Sam blurted out, but in the next breath asked with a hint of worry, “Are we moving too fast?  Is this…too much too soon?  I want you, I want all of that but—”

“Just listen to what you’re saying,” Gabriel kissed him sweetly and reminded him, “There’s no right or wrong.  If you want it, I’m dying to give it to you.  If you want to stop, I’ll stop.  This is easy, it’s all on you—you have control over everything, all right?”  He waited a moment to let it sink in.  “Now tell me,” Gabriel flicked his tongue across Sam’s slightly opened lips.  “What do you want to start with?  What are you craving the most?  Something must have caught your interest—”

“Want you to fuck me,” Sam didn’t hesitate.  “Coming together, it’s more intimate.  I found out that kissing is a sign of intimacy.  Which means _we’re_ something more, right?”

The archangel seemed taken aback by those words, by Sam’s assumption because...maybe that was true.  Gabriel didn’t exactly find what he referred to as ‘special people’ and dive into random make out sessions, for the sake of making out.  Maybe there _was_ more to this that he didn’t want to admit.  Because, with or without anything diving past another base, as long as he could kiss this Reaper again, he’d be happy.

Which was ludicrous!  Considering his past…

Damn Sam and his stupid to-the-point, never-beating-around-the-bush personality.

Gabriel moved to hover over Sam and saw the almost tender and wishful look in his eyes when Gabriel confirmed, “Yeah.  I think you weaseled your way in.  Don’t know how, but you did.”  He paused and noted, “You know, it’s gonna _suck_.”

With furrowed brows, Sam asked with trepidation, “What?  This?  Did I mess something up again, did I—”

“Nah, not at all.  You’re just _too_ perfect.  Wish we could have this, you know?  But when you leave, all of this, _us_ , it’ll be gone,” he didn’t sound happy about that.  “Just when I win you over and we’re about to have fantastic sex, next thing I know you’re gonna be in the wind!”

“But you’ll watch over me.  Can’t you introduce yourself again when I’m old enough?”  There was that puppy dog face.  “I…hate that my memories are gonna be wiped.  But I think, no matter the life, we _will_ connect.  Any version of me is going to fall for you.  Please.  Tell me you’ll find me?”

“I promise I’ll see how you’re doing,” Gabriel said elusively and snapped his fingers, Sam very suddenly and shockingly felt two fingers twisting into his body.

He shivered in anticipating, not that this bothered him, he didn’t feel any pain and ordered Gabriel to put in another.  With utter glee, Gabriel did just that—it was only a matter of stretching him, preparing him and the pain had nothing to do with it.  He just need to make room for his dick.

Once he’d gotten the job done, Gabriel asked, “So you wanna be fucked from behind?” with excitement and a fierceness in his tone.  “I’m gonna pound into that sweet ass so hard, Sammy.  You better be ready.”

“I am,” he was almost shaking with anticipation, but right before he got on his hands and knees he paused and looked at Gabriel.  “What did you mean?  You’ll promise to see how I’m doing?  Gabriel, I want you to be apart of my life.   _Please_ , I—”

The archangel was so much stronger and pushed Sam around spreading his legs and slowly pushing inside him until they were flush.  “Oh, Sam—so fucking perfect.  So tight and so good for me—”  He draped himself over a little and nipped his lower back.

Gabriel’s hands grabbed at Sam’s hips, slowly thrusting in once and asked, “How does that feel, babe?”

“Fucking _great_.  And like you’re avoiding a question—”

“Obviously it’s not fucking great if you have time to chit-chat,” Gabriel ground his teeth and kicked it into high gear.

He literally fucked any words that could come from Sam’s mouth and turned them all into pleas and punctuated breaths, curses, and his name.  He could feel the Reaper’s thighs quivering, he could tell how the fast and furious pace probably wasn’t exactly what Sam had wanted for his first time but…

Gabriel _had_ to protect himself.

And Sam’s moans and keens were getting louder and louder.  Now that he understood, he’d aggressively pushed himself backwards on Gabriel’s dick, choking out the words, “S-so deep, Gabe!”

And he responded, “Wanna give you something you remember,” as he sucked a bruise onto Sam’s flank, “Remember until the day you head to Existence, and have dreams about me, once you’re old enough.   _Shit_ , I wanna leave my mark on you, I just—”

“Mark—?” Sam nearly stopped, and Gabriel reminded himself once more:

_Don’t open your big, fat mouth!  Especially during sex, dammit!_

“Talk more later, c’mon,” he ordered in a low growl, from this position, Gabriel could easily find Sam's sweet spot again.

And that, right there, made Sam come undone.

The way Gabriel never let up, alternating between grazing and pounding into it, keeping Sam on his toes as he fucked him into oblivion.  Now all these conversations were distant afterthoughts in Gabriel’s damn mind because this sexy, stunning man under him?  Deserved _more_ than being a Reaper, _more_ than human, he just—

Gabriel, very suddenly, _didn’t want to_ give this gorgeous Reaper up.

Sam whimpered so hard it bounced off the walls, “T-that feeling, I think—”

Practically purring, Gabriel wanted Sam’s first orgasm to be amazing, overwhelming, and he never wanted him to come down.  So Gabriel grabbed Sam’s cock to jerk in time as well, and told him, “Just let it happen.  Let go, let the feeling overwhelm you, beautiful.”

He could feel Sam twitch in surprise right before he continued to move against Gabriel and into his fist.  He shamelessly moaned the archangel’s name over and over, grappling for the covers for something to hold onto.

God, that tight hole and the desperation that was Sam, knowing that he’d been the first to ever give him that feeling?  To get him off _and_ to hear the delicious sounds he made—the way he’d called his name, Gabriel had to ask with limited time, “Let me fill you up.”

“O-okay,” he was breathless, and then the question really seemed to sink in when Sam changed his answer to, “Oh, _fuck yes_!”

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Gabriel’s grip on Sam’s hips was so tight, the random spasm around his cock even tighter, and the fact that Sam wanted him for _more_ than sex was just—

It was enough to rock him straight into an orgasm, and he continued to ride it out, plunging inside Sam’s ready and willing body, who was still bucking backwards to meet his thrusts.  The amount of effort, the lengths that Sam would go to, or ask him to assist with, hell the brothel visit for understanding, he _wasn’t_ the normal Reaper.  And everything about him made Gabriel’s toes curl and his pleasure increase ten fold.

When he filled him up and stretched his insides, Sam mewled and ground down against his cock, finally having caught his breath—but the feeling of cum rushing through his insides made his heart beat double-time again.

The moment they both collapsed to the bed, Sam was all over Gabriel, he wanted to know about cuddling, ‘the afterglow’ and ‘pillow talk’ he’d done research on.  Clearly, they had a few things to discuss.

“Gabe,” Sam prefaced it with a deliberate nibble on his collarbone, making the archangel shiver.  “You know what I’m gonna say.”

“Which part?”  He moved his hands from where they’d been crossed above his head and dropped, wrapping them around the Reaper and pulling him closer.

“It…sounds like all you’re gonna do when I become human is watch from the shadows.  That you’re not going to make yourself known to me.  At all.  I don’t understand.”  Sam was hurt by this, Gabriel couldn’t only tell it by his voice but his body language—he was curling in on himself.  “I’m doing it, no matter what, and it…it sucks that I found you so late in the game.  Maybe...you could have been the difference.  But can you... _please_ reconsider?”

Those puppy eyes were like nuclear warheads, Gabriel was sure of it.

“How about this.  I make sure you and your buddy are born, which is still pretty huge.  Then, I’ll glance in from time to time and make sure you’re doing well.  Once you’re an adult, or…once you are the visible age of your… _you_ , I’ll introduce myself.  I’ll make it a point.  But if you don’t want anything to do with me, that’s on you.” Gabriel clucked his tongue, the plan sounding solid because if he met Sam at a bar, it would just be a drop in the barrel, he wouldn’t worry.

Except, Sam was glowing when he nodded, “Okay.  Then we will find each other.”

Gabriel was baffled by how sincere Sam was, how certain, like…what the hell?

Sam seemed to notice this and rolled on top of the archangel with a wide grin, “There’s no one else in the world like you, Gabriel.  I’ve been alive since the beginning of time.  Maybe even before _your_ father, I’d notice you anywhere, I’d find you anywhere.  Unless…” realization dawned on his face, “You don’t want me to?”

“No, no, no,” Gabriel’s hands flew up to cup Sam’s cheeks and he promised him, “It’s just rough, you know?  Your life as a human is going to go by in the blink of an eye.  And—”

“No and,” Sam pushed through the tender to kiss his forehead, “Heaven.  You can visit me all the time, we—”

“I told you, they think I’m dead.”

That was the moment Sam froze, his bubble popped and he rolled over, his body all but slammed down against the mattress.  He was almost sure, almost damn near _positive_ things would work out, but after all _this_?

Just above a hushed whisper, Sam asked, “You said something about leaving a mark on me.  You said you wished…then you told me to wait to talk about it.  What’s this mark?”  He continued to look at the ceiling because now he was gun-shy, Gabriel could see it, and it broke his heart.

So he took the initiative to roll over against Sam and spread random kisses onto his body while he explained, “It’s…what happens when angels claim humans.  No one besides them can take their vessel.  They belong _to_ , but most importantly, they _belong together_.  It’s a rare process, but it _may_ help you retain your memories.”

Sam whipped around and demanded, “Are you serious?!  I really could—?!”

“But!  Who knows if it'd work on a Reaper.  What's more, you’d belong to me.  Which is _extreme_ shit, kiddo,” Gabriel stressed those words as much as he could, “Like, forever.  You _need_ to _—_ ”

“Yes!  This makes perfect sense!  Because then Cas wouldn’t be forgotten like he’s scared he will be and…” he lost some steam and frowned, “I’d win.  I’d come out on top in every way, but Dean…he’d lose the memory of the love of his life.”  Sam wiped his hand down his face.  “Maybe it’s not as easy as I thought.”

Gabriel pulled him back and held him, knew the stress and the heartache this Reaper was going through, the one who’d been a snake on his way into Gabriel’s heart.  “Things are never that easy.  But we can always try to make ‘em painless.  I may have an idea or two, we’ll see if it pans out, okay?”

“You’ve always got an idea or two,” Sam chuckled and kissed Gabriel’s lips, “That’s why I lo—”

His finger flew to Sam’s lips to silence him.  “No sayin’ that until I figure the future out, all right?”

“Why not?” he was curious rather than offended, “I thought being straightforward was an approach you preferred.”

“That’s…something, uh, completely different.”  Now, Gabriel’s heart was threatening to beat out of his chest.  “We’ve still got the rest of the night to play.  Be with each other as long as possible, ‘til they call your fine ass away.  Does that sound good?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”  He kissed Gabriel’s cheek and took a second to regroup, because they could really go again whenever they wanted.  Still he needed to know, “When can I say it?  Will you tell me?”

Gabriel internally groaned, because it was ridiculously, obviously unromantic, Sam _already_ felt those feelings for him but Gabriel wasn’t allowing them out in the open.  Most of it didn’t make sense, and he knew it.  So he kissed Sam’s forehead, and ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, Moose.  I’ll give you the go-ahead.”

Again, his smile was brilliant and he eagerly accepted, wrapping and engulfing the archangel with his body.  It was all kinds of adorable, since Sam knew next to nothing about spooning but Gabriel would happily let him try.


	6. Chapter Five

Sam exchanged a glance filled with anxiety towards Dean, yet the other Reaper, even though it hadn’t been his own choice, or rather idea, looked back without nothing but support.  They stood in front of their superior’s office and Sam was trying to ease the tension from his back, when Dean smacked him.  Hard.

“This is something you want, Sammy,” he reminded him in a whisper.  “Don’t be afraid.  I’m here with you, okay?”

“Y-yeah.  I mean, of course I want it, more than anything.  It just…this makes it so much more…real.”  His admission, much to Dean’s surprise, was met with underlying excitement.

So _that’s_ what the butterflies were about.  Not freaking-out-and-thinking-twice, but fuckin’ _happiness_.  And that brought a smile to Dean’s face.

“What are you waiting for?  Can’t do nothin’ about this from behind a door.”

Sam agreed, “You’re right,” and knocked.

“C’mon in!”  The voice said, and once Sam began to pull on the handle, the Higher Up Reaper groused, “Been wondering when the hell you’d stop lollygagging.”

Sam hadn’t realized they’d been caught and he tried not to blush, but Dean laughed out loud as they shut the door behind them and went ahead to take the seats in front of the large desk.  On the edge of his seat, Sam was practically vibrating, and it was something that Robert (who they called Bobby in private) noticed instantly.

“What’s on yer mind, Sam?” Bobby continued to observe him, but couldn’t get a read on him, which was unusual.

“Um.  So I’ve been thinking about something for a long time. _Decades_ , long.  And I’ve just…I can’t bury away the thought anymore, I need it, I’m old, I’m too jaded to do the job anymore... I…”  With a massive breath, he looked Bobby in the eyes and said, “I want Existence.”

In his defense, Bobby only looked shocked for half a second before he began to stew.  He was deep in thought, almost as though this was a consideration.  Not a choice.  Which was terrifying.  That silence was something that unnerved the Lepos Reaper, and brought Dean to speak up.

“Where Sammy goes, I go.  I want it, too.  Can’t let him get into much trouble on his own.”  Dean winked, “It’s a two for one deal.”

Immediately, their superior voiced the question of the hour.  “Why not three fer one?”

Both Reapers fell silent, Dean even going as far as to look down to his lap.  He was still…hurt.  Maybe even a little heartbroken that Cas hated the idea so much that he’d rather never see Sam or Dean than become human.  God, it hurt in the worst way.

“We tried,” Sam explained mournfully, “Castiel, he…wouldn’t budge.  He wouldn’t even entertain the idea.  It really sucks, we don’t want to leave him behind—that’s the _last_ thing we want.  But we can’t force him.  Make up his mind for him.  He’s…well, you know.   _Too_ good at his job.  He only sees the corruption in humanity, I mean, why would he want to be a part of it?”  Shaking his head, Sam went on to say, “But I’ve seen the good.  So much good.  Love, family, choice, even the downsides I-I want to experience it.”

Sam reached across and grabbed Dean’s hand, trying to get through to him again, trying to make him forget about Cas.  “We want to get away from an eternity of death.  Being human it’s just…something amazing.”  

Dean smiled at Sam’s attempt and turned back with an air of fake confidence and said, “When our time comes to be reaped, maybe you can do us the favor, Bobby.  Get back in the trenches for little ol’ us.”

The Reaper guffawed and crossed his arms.  “Won’t be happening.”

“What?” Sam’s eyes widened, he dropped Dean’s hand to grab at the desk.  “You’re denying us?”

“Truth is, I’m damn tired of it too,” Bobby said, casually, as if the two weren’t in utter shock, “Someone’s gotta keep you boys outta trouble down on Earth, right?”

“Are you fucking with us?!” Dean demanded, and when Bobby glared he was positive there was no fuckery involved.  “Well, shit.  That’s awesome!”

“I’ll need time to get together the objects needed for the ritual,” he explained, lowering his voice.  “Now, you idjits go about your business, tell no one, you hear?  No one.  I should have things ready in two days.  Make the most of them, ‘cause next thing you know you’ll be in a hospital room, eight pounds two ounces, crying, naked, unable to hold yer damn head up.”

“Nice…visual,” Sam laughed and shook his head with the turn of event.  “All right, we’ll keep our heads down.”

Holy shit, two days…this was happening much faster than either Reaper had imagined.  They'd both been assuming this was months out, but now it was coming (more like crashing) together.

“What about Cas?”  Dean had to ask.

And Bobby paused, debating on that question.  “It’s up to you.  Do you want to give him warning, have him pissed off at you two with the time you have together?  Risk him pulling something to keep you here?  Or rip off the band-aid and disappear.  You know Castiel better than anyone, don’t ask me what’s best.”

Dean hated that he didn’t get a black and white answer, that they were left with the choices—each of the two were utter crap.  Both of the options were shitty to Cas and both Reapers hated it.

“All right,” Sam said and stood up.  “Two days.”

Bobby confirmed, “Two days,” with a grin tugging the corner of his mouth.  “See you then.”

\---------------------

Bars, coffee shops, hotels and parks.

These were familiar, these were places of solace and meeting between the three Reapers.  Right now, Sam and Dean watched the families at the picnic tables, the children on the playgrounds, the couples walking along the trails on the outskirts holding hold.  All of this, now, was surreal.

“That’s gonna be us,” Sam said with a soft smile.

“What?  The little kid about to puke on the seesaw?  If that’s Existence, it’s gonna be a wild ride,” he teased him with an elbow to the side.

“Shut up.  You know what I mean, Dean.”  He shot him one of his infamous bitchfaces and pointed around the area.  “Growing up, young love, adulthood, starting a family.  All these things, they’re beautiful.  They’re a blessing.”

Dean paused, looking Sam over.  “I don’t know about that blessing part.  But, yeah, obvious things that we can’t do now.  You know, we’ve gotta hope that we don’t end up in some karma situation.”

“Karma?” Sam echoed in confusion.

“Yeah,” Dean snorted and made a sweeping motion with his arm.  “What if none of this is us?  What if we grow up with a shitty home life?  What if our parents can barely make ends meet?  Hell, what if we only have one parent?  What if we grow up only knowing what’s it like to follow orders or risk getting our asses beaten, or left out on the streets, begging for money and it’s _worse_ than being a Reaper?  What if…we wish for this picture-perfect, happy life, and things turn sour.”

Sam stared at him for a while.  He analyzed his body language, his stony expression and more than anything, his eyes.

“Dean…” he said carefully, “You’re just thinking about Cas.  You’re projecting and—”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me, Sam!” he spat with more venom than he’d meant to, and before he could apologize, Sam cut him off.

“Two days, Dean!  Even if we’re reborn and don’t remember him, he’ll remember us forever.  Go to him,” Sam ordered.  “But don’t take up all his time.  He’s my best friend, too.  Just…call me when the coast is clear.”

Yet, he hesitated, “I dunno.  Last time, he walked out on me.  I think we’re going to have to have a group hangout, like usual, before he talks to me in private again.”  Dean was crestfallen and hunched over, elbows on his knees.  “He was pissed, told me I needed to think it over after giving me all the reasons not to.  Just disappeared on me.  I think I might’ve ruined things and don’t have the time to fix them before we hit the road.”

Sam could feel the second-hand sorrow.  He urged, “All the more reason to corner him.  You and Cas are the most stubborn Reapers I’ve ever met.  Hell, even more stubborn than any _souls_ I’ve reaped, more than the young vengeful spirits!  You’ve gotta make things right.  Leave it open ended, don’t talk about our meeting with Bobby just…be you and Cas.  That’s what I’d do.  Don’t let the topic come up—”

“What if it does?” Dean demanded, “I’ll just say, “So long, buddy.  See you never.  Love you, bye?”  Yeah, that’ll really go over well.”

With a pause, Sam took his time grasping the concept and then putting together the words, “You really love him?  Like, _love_ , love?”

He had to swallow while he nodded his admission, “Yeah, I do.  But the thing is…even though I love him, I love _you_ , too.  Just in different ways.  And it’s his choice to be alone, you know?  He _could_ come with us.  But he won’t.  I can’t leave you hanging, I-I’ve made my decision and Cas has made his.”  Dean closed his eyes as he recollected, “I begged him, Sammy.  I would’ve gotten on my knees.  I pleaded, and I wish, more than anything, he’d come.  But…it’s not who he is.  Or, maybe, he doesn’t care about us as much as I-”

“Stop it!  Right now!” Sam slammed Dean’s thought process to a halt.  “Of fucking course, he loves us!  And I can’t imagine what he’s going through but… Probitas are different.  They’re an entire creature of their own.  It’s amazing that he was capable, that he formed such a close relationship with us at all.  You realize that, right, Dean?  It should be impossible for him to love you.  But he does.  This is just too far out of his range, he’s already broken all the rules of his creation, this isn’t your fault.”

He slung his arm around Dean’s shoulder and explained, “You’re right.  It’s not who he is.  We were ridiculously spoiled to have gotten to know him at all.  You realize that, right?”

Dean didn’t fucking care, they were invisible so he leaned his head on Sam’s shoulder.  “Y-yeah.”  It was shuddered out, “Why’re you so damn smart?”

“Heh, because someone has to be.”

They stayed there for a while as Dean built himself back up.  Two days, he reminded himself, he couldn’t waste them.  Maybe tonight the three of them could go to a bar, for old times sake.  Or maybe they’d skip it, head to the coffee shop.  Everything was so up in the air.  But Cas couldn’t refuse any scenario where Sam was involved, right?  Especially if he knew he’d never see Sam again, and it was his idea in the first place.

Cas _had_ to say goodbye.  It was the ace in Dean’s deck to get him talking if all else failed.  He wasn’t that petty to hold a grudge as to ignore the last chance to be with your friends.  He couldn’t be.

\-----------------------------

It was a pain in the ass for Dean to locate him.  It was almost like he didn’t want to be found, like he was hiding, because under normal circumstances Dean could trace Castiel in a split-second.  Today was different.  He assumed yesterday would have been different, as well.  If he’d maned up and chased him after his exit.

Instead of calling him and risk being turned down (because that would just fuckin’ hurt), Dean decided to seek out the other Reaper.

Turned out, he wasn’t even on a job.  He was doing what _normal_ Reapers did in their spare time—because the trio socializing truly was far from normal.

Cas had found a location and waited.  He was studying the surrounding and experiencing the environment.  Someplace devoid of humans, some place to get away.

This irked Dean in ways he couldn’t even begin to explain, because what if Cas…was preparing to be rid of him and Sam?  What if he was getting ready, getting in the habit of what he was ‘supposed to do’ when he’d be free of them?    
  
That was like a punch to the gut.

They were somewhere in a dense forest; a place where the ground had a light dusting of snow and more was almost twirling down in an elegant dance.  One where the sun peaking through the trees cast light and the flakes seemed to glisten.  It was gorgeous scenery, but Dean was much more concerned with the gorgeous _being_ in front of him.

One he needed to win back, prove to him how much he loved him, before the clock ran out.

“Cas,” his voice sounded so small from behind him, even smaller in the midst of the vastness and grandeur of the woodlands.

“Hello, Dean.”  It was even without a hint of emotion, a lilt of familiarity.  He didn’t even turn around when he asked, “May I help you?”

“I…”  He paused and took in a deep breath, because it was now or never.  With his jaw set, he stomped right up behind him and grabbed his shoulder, spinning Cas around.  Even the affronted look on the other Reapers face wouldn’t stop him from blurting out, “I love you.  I’m in love with you, for so fuckin‘ long, it‘s always been you, Cas.  And I’d hoped that maybe…you felt the same.  And even if you didn’t, I thought maybe our friendship would be enough to hold us together.  But from the looks of us,” he gestured to their surroundings, “you’re already moving on, aren’t you?”

Castiel’s eyes were wide at the confessions and accusations, he didn’t know which to address first.  “Dean, in case you forgot, you’re both moving on without me,” but he fumbled over the words, “I-I care for you deeply.  I…” he looked at the fresh snow covering his shoes, “I love you, as well.  Which is why I can’t grasp how you could leave me.”

“Can we just drop it?”  He pleaded, reaching out and lifting Cas’ chin with a brush of his hand.  “I need you.  I can’t stand it when we fight, I want to be with you as long as I can.  Let’s forget about this, let’s get out of the freakin’ tundra and let me make it up to you?”

He squinted, trying to figure out what Dean was insinuating, attempting to figure out what was going on.  Yet, in the end, Cas couldn’t help but feel relief, agreeing, “I’ll allow you to make it up  to me.  Since you were such a fool for even considering such an idiotic plan in the first place.”

And there was that one-two punch to Dean’s gut, once more.

At least Cas was letting him off the hook, it looked like?  Dean wasn’t going to take it for granted.

He reached out his hand and said, “Come with me?” and Cas didn’t hesitate to grab on.

Easily enough, Dean teleported them back to a hotel that looked as different as possible from the previous where they’d had their fight.  He didn’t want Cas to think about it for a second, so he made sure the surroundings wouldn’t trigger a single memory.

Whereas the previous hotel was soft, white, shades of cream and comfort - this one was tacky, colorful and themed.  The bed was still comfortable (Dean made sure of that) but they were night and day at first glance.  He prayed that it helped, that it worked, that it didn’t ruin the last night they’d have together—

Wow.

Their… _last_ night together.

“Dean?” Cas asked hesitantly, “Do you wish to speak, or—?”

“ _Or_ something,” he grinned, because Castiel looked so adorable when he was confused.

And while he eagerly tore off his suit jacket and grabbed Cas roughly by the tie, he looked even more confused.  Dean needed to kiss that adorable face, so he did just that.  He kept a firm hold, maybe it was even a matter of having control, clutching the tie so he didn’t move while he cradled Cas’ cheek with his other hand.

As their teeth clashed and their lips battled, Cas boldly and gracefully began to unbutton the front of Dean’s dress shirt, the man only bothering with a tie of his own half the time.  Today was not one of those days.  As they licked inside each other’s mouths, and Cas made a move to unzip Dean’s fly, he was met with a throbbing, thick erection straining against the fabric.  It was just a brush, barely even a touch, but Dean moaned into Cas’ mouth.

It made him grin and repeat the action, until Dean swung Cas around by the fisted fabric and snapped, “God, you’re such a tease.”

That broke the dam, and Dean began tearing each and every piece of clothing from Cas’ body, while he protested, “I am not a tease, Dean, I—” but the words died on his tongue when he was naked and flung back onto the bed.  With a glare, he ordered roughly, “Don’t you set foot on this mattress until you’re disrobed,” his eyes were in a daze, driven by sheer lust, “I need to touch you, taste you.”

Dean shivered as Cas watched his every move, it almost feeling like it was a strip tease except there was nothing slow or sensual about it.  He was trying to step out of his pants and boxers without tripping, he was yanking his socks off without anything to balance on, he was whipping off his undershirt and basically getting caught in the sleeves.  Yeah—Dean had never won any medals in the grace department.

Still, Castiel looked hungry, his stare was so heavy and Dean felt like the most desired person in the world.

Finally, he crawled on the bed with a grin and said, “May I proceed?” and winked.

He was answered by Cas hauling him up, and slamming him back down, luckily hitting the pillows rather than the headboard.

“You’re stunning, Dean.  Inside and out,” he nipped Dean’s earlobe and sucked it into his mouth, then began kissing down his neck.  He was roughly nipping and teasing, doing these _amazing_ things to his corporeal body, pleasure zinging through him with every move, “You know, we’ve never actually…”

“Gone all the way?” Dean finished for him, then shouted out unexpectedly when Cas took his cock in hand and began to not only jerk it, but suck the head into his mouth.  He was flushed and arching into the touch, but he had to know, “D-do you want to?”

Cas thought carefully, licking a new spurt of precum right from the sensitive slit before they made eye contact.  “We may both have to ignore orders, you know…”

And that’s what was the bitch of it all.  It _wasn’t_ a matter of not wanting to have sex, or being nervous—they'd tried multiple times.  It was the souls going through the wires and their presence being needed, on the double, that constantly ruined the mood.

It always resulted in a hand job or, if they were lucky, a quick sixty-nine and a kiss goodbye.  Right now?  Cas was much too into this, he looked downright ravenous and filled with desire, and Dean wasn’t about to let him get away either.  He’d give him a damn good incentive, too.  
  
And if Cas, Employee of the Decade (every decade), was willing to ignore orders?  Damn, Dean would in a heartbeat.

“The only order I care about right now?” Dean bit his lip and spread his legs, “Is me ordering you to fuck me raw, Cas.”

He perked up and then a devilish grin flashed as sucked hard enough to leave the brush of teeth, kissing Dean’s inner thighs.  “Oh?  Is that what you want?  My cock inside you?”

“Want it so bad.”  He was whimpering, but that was just the beginning—he’d beg if he needed to.  “You have no idea how much I think about it, how much I want it.  Want _you_.  For so long, give it to me, babe.”

“Mm, you sound amazing, pleading for it like that.”

Cas startled Dean into a yelp that turned into a long whine as he plunged three, wet fingers inside his hole completely unexpectedly and without warning.  It didn’t matter to Reapers, these weren’t true human bodies, they didn’t feel pain in the same way, and they molded to fit the Reaper exactly how they wanted.  Maybe if Dean had wanted the entire experience, he could have, but right now the _only_ thing he wanted was Cas, so his body was ready.

It drew a sharp moan from Cas’ throat, because he’d expected some resistance, and instead he jerked up to make eye contact, “Holy hell, you really do want my cock, don’t you?”  He continued pumping his fingers, curling them to find Dean’s prostate, “You could take my dick right now—” and then the delicious gasp told Cas he’d found it.

“Oh, Dean,” he purred and moved up to mouth at the juncture of his jaw, Dean continuing to writhe and buck up uncontrollably.  “Tell me again, what do you want?”

He knew this was the moment, he knew this was it and used all the strength inside him to grab Cas’ face.  “Make love to me?”

For a second, the universe seemed to stand still—their eyes locked and a pause of sheer emotion that shouldn’t be felt by Reapers shocked their systems before they dove into a heated, loving and passion-driven kiss.  It was a beautiful moment in time, just the two of them, and right as Cas lined up and slide inside they became one.

They were tangled arms, legs, and one creation, because they were so much more than Reapers, just then.

Dean’s breath was shaky, taking a second to acclimate to the fullness, to the burning size of Cas’ cock, and the other Reaper kissed his forehead and brushed away the hair.  “God, Cas, you...feels awesome but, _damn_ ,” he chuckled and stole a kiss.

“I happen to know you’re quite fond of my cock,” he teased, kissed him once more, and asked tenderly, “Are you ready?”

With a goofy grin, Dean nodded and squeezed Cas between his legs, “Yeah, c'mon, give it to me.”

Cas began to move, slowly at first, but he’d pull all the way out and plunge all the way back in—giving the other man the depth he craved.  Dean had a grip on his hips, so that every time they collided back together, he could grind them just a little harder, just a little deeper and make him squirm in pleasure.

It was mesmerizing to watch, as he picked up his pace, but stayed right within reach of his lips.  And Dean took advantage, thoroughly kissing Cas whenever he wanted, with no rhyme or reason, just to kiss him.

It was hard to believe this was their firsttime coming together like this, they moved perfectly in sync; like a well-oiled machine, and every slap of their skin felt deeper than the last.  It was overwhelming and Cas loved every second of Dean coming undone.

Yet for Dean, he was trying to memorize every moment and make the best of it.  Remember Cas’ body, the way he loved him without reservation, unconditionally, the way he’d always do anything to please him—fuck—Cas was a goddamn angel.

And Dean was leaving him.

He was a piece of shit, he knew it, but he had to make the most of it.  And when Cas struck his prostate again, having been lost in thought, he shouted out again.  “Oh—fuck, right there, Cas!”

“Good,” he purred, and kissed him.  With this maddening fierce need.

Dean tried to pull him in further, hold him tighter, and the words, “I love you,” fell from his lips like a broken record.

He needed Cas to know it, how much he meant it, how much he meant to him, “It’s only you—it’ll always be you _forever—_ ” and the expression on the other Reaper’s face was flooded with happiness, with joy and he sealed their lips together in something mind-blowing.

So mind-blowing, in fact, Dean never wanted to let go.

He hadn’t a clue if it was Cas’ kiss or his orgasm that had left him reeling, but being wrapped in those strong arms and the feeling of love, of safety and ecstasy—this was something he’d never, ever experience again.  He breathed it in, took it for all it was worth and held Cas closer when he came right after him.

The feeling of being whole and wanted, of someone who forgave and never wished to let go—especially right now as they laid bare and wrapped together in bed: it was indescribable.  He was warm and happy and everything was perfect.  Dean never, ever wanted to leave this moment.

“I love you.  So much, Dean,” Cas said almost shyly, pitched downward to where Dean was pillowed on his chest.  “Mm, we need to ignore orders more often.  Making love, it’s...” he laughed lightly, giddy from the experience which Dean found so fucking cute, “quite a phenomenon.  I enjoy being together like that.  I…hope it was good for you?”

Dean knew damn well Cas was referring to his experience, but he could honestly said, “Best I’ve ever had.”  He shimmied their positions around so they were face to face and kissed the tip of his nose.  “I told you, you’re everything to me.  And it means so much more when there’s feeling behind it.  Oh!”  He faked a look of surprise, ” _And_ when your lover has an amazing dick,” and winked.

Castiel rolled his eyes and grumbled, “You’re incorrigible.  Unfortunately, my heart doesn’t seem to mind so it appears that I’m stuck with you.”

Inside, Dean hurt.  He hurt so bad because he wished so fucking badly that were the case.  He wanted to have it all, he wanted _Cas_.  He wanted to be selfish but that’s not how it worked, even though Cas needed _him_ but—

He couldn’t.

He’d make the most of this evening though, and mischievously rolled closer, saying, “Whatcha say we ignore orders for the rest of the night?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow, “I could be convinced.”

Without warning, Dean rolled on top of him and kissed the fuck out of him.

Needless to say, Cas was very, very convinced.


	7. Chapter Six

  
  
It was bittersweet, the three Reapers taking their seat in corporeal form at the coffee shop.

_Their_ coffee shop.  For what Sam and Dean knew was the very last time.

They’d been here when they’d broke ground to build this block, filled with shops back in 1925.  The Reapers had watched businesses come and go, but this small, cozy space that they claimed as their own had been there since the beginning.  It had been passed down through the family line.  Even though the family aged, new generations grew up inside, practically raised here—as the loft above was an apartment.

The Reapers, however, remained a photo in time, so they disguised themselves as much as the time period would allow.  They took breaks every now and then, at pivotal points in the family’s memory.  But they’d always have a number of years to proudly sit and just be…them.

Maybe it was a good time to do this, because soon they’d have to go underground once more.  The daughter was debating community college in the area for a business degree to take over, or: follow her dreams at culinary school.  It was a fifty fifty chance, but they were truly a “family business.”  In the end, the Reapers would place bets she’d take over the shop.  
  
There was really no contest for those in the family, because it was love that made this coffee shop something special.  The warm familiar faces, the old-timey feel with the random updates, it was beyond unique.  Every child had a place in their heart for it, growing up helping with the baked goods and dipping their fingers for a taste in some of the glazes when Papa wasn’t looking.  
  
That’s why time and time again, they’d stay.

Both Sam and Dean were getting nostalgic, taking in all the tiny details and nuances, wondering if, perhaps, they’d find this place in the next life.

Sam noticed right away that Cas and Dean had made up.  Even before Dean scooted his chair just close enough to hold his hand under the table.  He noticed the way Cas openly smiled at Dean, too, which made him feel like the villain.

Because he was ripping these two apart…

Well, he couldn’t _force_ Dean to come with him anymore than he could convince Cas, it just turned out the way it was.  Sam needed an extra skip in his step, and was sipping at a black coffee, just a hint of cream, since Bobby told them to stay in their corporeal bodies for the ritual.

“Maybe it’s spring,” Dean said conversationally, “people aren’t out doing stupid things.  They have some hope, they’re getting out of their houses since they’ve been cooped up and now they’re enjoying life.  Carefully.  I don’t know about you guys, but in the last few days, I’ve only had _three_.  Three souls!  Two from old age, ready to move on and one car accident!  What the hell, right?”

“Huh,” Sam looked interested and thought about it.  “Now that you mention it, I’ve only had two—”

“How is this possible,” Castiel glanced between the two of them in utter confusion.  “My workload has remained consistent.  Over a few dozen the past few days—”

Sam cut him off, changing his initial answer to hopefully ease Cas’ suspicions with, “Two to the gates and sixteen to Heaven,” as quickly as possible, because what if this was part of Bobby’s plan and the ritual?  It didn’t look as though Dean had told him, and he was a deer in headlights, so Sam had to clean up the possible mess.  “You didn’t let me finish Cas, geez!”

He tried to laugh it off and told Castiel, “Maybe Dean’s charm just hasn’t been a hot commodity lately.  Maybe it’s just Misericordia and Probitas on deck?  Like Dean said, it’s spring.  His busy season is usually summer.”

It seemed to quell Castiel, just a bit, but Dean wasn’t doing them any favors whatsoever.  Dammit, Sam thought he had a better game face than this!

“Yeah,” Dean abruptly cleared his throat, “I’ll be up once the spring breakers start, God knows Miami and Cancun will be hotspots for drunk drowning and other accidents.  There’s my hunting ground.  Same with the summer wave, like Sammy said.”

“Of course,” Castiel’s side eye turned into a squint, but he turned his attention back to the coffee.  “I’m glad we can look forward that far.  You two truly had me concerned.”

Shit.  Omitting the truth was one thing, but outright lying about it?  This was a horse of a different color, and not only that…it was unfair.  What could they do?  What would be less painful?  Would it be better to savor their time together and allow this be his last memory, or tell the truth and their parting be a fight?

It was happening today!  There was no going back, no choice, nothing Castiel could do.

“Yeah, we get some crazy ideas sometimes, don’t we?” Sam chuckled, making the executive choice for them both.

Dean’s entire energy seemed to scream ’thank you.’  Sam already knew that was the last thing he’d want to decide, since today was a good day.  What they had right now was a lovely afternoon together, fantastically mundane and just as they’d want it.

Their jobs were full of pain and heartache, so normal and boring, basking in each other's company together while sipping coffee and discussing anything but, it was their own little version of Heaven.  All three of them didn’t just want this, they needed this.

If the other Reapers knew that taking time away from reaping could help, maybe they’d change.  Maybe they’d develop free will and—

Well, maybe that was asking too much, because Castiel had all that and still loved being a Reaper.  So Sam deliberately made as much conversation as he could, while Dean made as much connection as he could as they enjoyed their last coffees.

God, Sam was going to miss Castiel.  His undeniably sharp mind, his ironic sense of humor, and the honest and genuine way he’d listen to your complaining or your woes and offer his unconditional support.  Cas was a true friend, an amazing being and Sam hurt that he couldn’t just bring him, kicking and screaming.  He’d miss him something awful, and if there was anything he could say to make him join them, he’d do it.  But between them, Sam had met his match.  All three, no matter how different and unique, had one quality in common.

They were unmovable forces.  They wouldn’t be talked out of or talked into anything.  When their minds were made up, that was it.

If Dean’s love wasn’t enough?  Sam doubted _his_ would be, because he loved Cas but not in the same romantic way that Dean had.  His heart was heavy, but he made the most out of this, because, _goddammit_ , Cas was going to know, to remember, how important he was to them, and how they were all a _family_.

Sam was determined to make sure he knew.

\----------------------------------

“Holy shit!” Sam swore, spinning around at the reflection in the mirror that just popped up out of nowhere behind him.  “Where have you been?!  I’ve been praying to you!  Constantly!  We’re at the final countdown, Gabriel!  I thought…” his voice dropped to a low, self-conscious whisper, “...you weren’t gonna show.”

“I told you, Moose, you needed some time to think,” Gabriel responded cheekily and patted him on the back.  “Now, are you still thinking stupid shit, or are you more clear-headed?”

Sam walked side by side with him, glancing around the motel room he and Dean had camped out in today.  “If by clear-headed, you mean I want to belong to you, then, yes.”  He stopped abruptly in front of Gabriel cutting off his path.

And the Reaper couldn’t help but grin, because Gabriel looked genuinely caught off guard.  “You’re serious?  You want the bond, you want—”

“Yes!  Gabriel, I’ve been waiting for you!  Why do you think I’ve been praying?”  He shot him a bitchface that would send a lesser man begging forgiveness on his knees.  “I didn’t know if others could listen in like local Reapers, but that’s why I was reaching out!  I’ve never even second guessed it!”

Sam continued to invade the archangel’s space even further, “If anything, it’s _all_ I’ve been thinking about!  Knowing you?  Remembering you?  Being yours?”  He snorted and shook his head, meeting gold eyes with nothing but sincerity, “How is that even a choice?”

Gabriel was baffled by the unwavering decision and utter passion in his words.  He…well, he’d never really gotten close enough to anyone, _ever_ , for this topic to be brought up in the first place.  And now that it was, and the other party was so damn set on it, well, Gabriel laughed out loud at how crazy it all was.

“This, right here, is insane.  You know that, right?”  He looked Sam dead in the eyes when he said it, not shrinking away from any bullshit posturing he was trying to attempt or anything.  “How long have we known each other?  How long—”

“Sometimes insane makes total sense.  After all, you _were_ the one who brought it up,” Sam pointed out, not backing down either.

This was ridiculous.  It was like two alpha males, chest to chest, trying to assert dominance about being together for the rest of eternity.  When the answer, even as a tell from all this foolishness, was a resounding ‘yes.’

“You can say it.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow, to see if Sam had the balls without the throes of passion or the after glow—to test his loyalties in every, way, shape or—

“I love you, Gabriel.”

Well, that test was passed.

Gabriel smirked and finally backed away, giving them space to breath.  But he did grab Sam’s hand and swing him down into one of the chairs to straddle his lap.  “You, sir, are a wonder.  A lovely mystery, and I can’t believe I found you.”

“You’re…not just doing this because I’m some kind of rare object to possess, right?”  For the first time, Sam felt anxiety set in.  “I mean, I know how I feel.  I say it freely, it’s…well, Reapers consider it one of my flaws.  But, if anyone’s a mystery?  It’s you.”

The archangel took notice while Sam continued, too smart for his own good.  “You speak in half truths, Gabriel, in half-promises.  You never say anything is for certain.  You allow hopes to grow, all the while doubt continues to brew.  I chose hope.  I think you did, but I-I need to hear it.  Just once.  Because—”

Sam swallowed hard, his eyes dropping down, but Gabriel would have none of that.  He cuffed the Reaper under the chin and drew his focus up, because he was hanging on his every word.  Sam was spell-binding, and if there was still something on his mind, Gabriel needed to hear it and prompted, “Because?”

“Because who knows how you’ll feel in eighteen years.  Twenty one years.  Whenever you decide our paths will cross.  I’ll be aching and missing you, but as a human?  The ball will always be in your court.  Leave me with something.  Something I can have now, to know that there was a time…you cared for me.”

With his eyebrows furrowed, Gabriel blurted out, “This _isn’t_ a move of strategy.  This isn’t about your stubborn Probitas Reaper.  So forget all that, this is us!  Sam—this is pure and simple selfishness.  This is me.  Wanting you.  To belong to me, forever.”

Finally, he lit up, finally it clicked and Sam pushed past Gabriel’s hand to kiss him with such a passion it stole the breath from the archangel’s lungs.  Sam grabbed his hips, holding him in place, right as he licked inside Gabriel's mouth and showed him how happy he was.  And, damn, was he enthusiastic about it all.

Sam pulled away, shaking, and pressed their foreheads together.  “Say it,” he ordered, and the sheer intensity sent yet another interested twitch to Gabriel’s dick.

“I want you to belong to me and no one else, Sammy,” he growled and grabbed a handful of his shirt, wild eyes meeting equally fierce ones.  “I’m gonna claim you as mine forever.  You’ll be my little Reaper for the rest of the day, my little human when you’re reborn, and you’ll live in my Heaven.  Nothing will keep us apart.”

Gabriel smoothly stood up and used his grace to throw Sam from the chair onto the bed.  He was hooked, ever since he’d gotten his hands on that chiseled, tanned and muscled body, so a snap was in order to get it back.  Gabriel watched hungrily as Sam stared him down without a scrap of clothing (just how Gabriel wanted him), cock hard and waiting, aching for touch.

“Say it.”  He repeated, not even phased by the location change or the lack of clothing.

God, Gabriel was taken by him.  Sam never stopped surprising him and it _wasn’t_ a small quirk, it was a huge deal—no one else could keep the archangel (and Trickster, as Sam would soon find out on Earth) on his toes like this.

“What’ll you do for me to say it?” Gabriel asked in the way of a trade, pulling off his clothes the old fashioned way but raking his eyes up and down Sam’s body and back again.

“I shouldn’t have to do a damn thing,” Sam snapped back, and grabbed his cock as he watched Gabriel undress, moaning because he finally, finally got some of that friction he was craving—

“Nuh-uh-uh!” Gabriel scolded.  “Remember?  Only one who can touch you is me,” he snapped the rest of his clothing off, saying fuck it and lunged to lay his body over Sam’s, touching at every point.

But most importantly, he replaced Sam’s hand around his dick with his own.  Sam whimpered and nodded, trying to jerk his hips into Gabriel’s fist and whining, ”You don’t play fair.”

“I certainly play, but I don’t cheat.  What is it you want, more than anything, kiddo?” he asked, breath against his neck.

“Heh, now it’s a little complicated.”  His hazel eyes shone brightly with arousal and unadulterated need when he quipped, “I can give you a top three.”

“I can work with that…“ Gabriel slid down Sam’s body, thoroughly taken and watching him, even when he lapped up all the drooling precum dripping from his cock.  Sam cursed loudly, grabbing fistfuls of Gabriel’s hair and attempted more—but then he let go right away, reminded he’d been asked a question and that was pertinent.

“I want you to say the words, prove I’m not alone in this,” Sam shuddered out, “That’s really, really important.”  He swiveled his hips lewdly and said, “But I want the bond just as bad.  Even if you don’t love me.  Or maybe you just can’t say the words.  I know sometimes people have different ways of showing it.   You may be one of those, Gabriel.”

“And the third?” Gabriel was near the end of his rope, his patience was paper-thin and Sam actually hauled him back up to whisper in his ear.

“The last one?”  It was fantastically filthy when he all but moaned, “I want you to fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.  Because there _isn’t_ , so you better show me what you’ve got.”

“Fuckin’ hell, I love you.”  The words slipped, but it didn’t matter, Sam was truly perfect for him and he needed to know now, “Are you positive?  Because I’ll create the bond—I’ll do it for you, Sammy.  You win, I want it, I wanna give you everything, will you let me?”

The wanton expression, the dropped jaw and the heaving of his chest couldn’t be described when he babbled, “Oh, hell yes, more than anything, Gabriel!  Don’t you dare hold back!”

Already enamored by the mere concept, in over his head and in love with Sam, there was no way he put the brakes on.  “Oh, I won’t.  Hang in for the ride, kiddo.”

Sam was prepared, he’d been waiting impatiently with all the praying he’d been doing, fingering his corporeal self open since he hadn’t lured in the archangel yet—and yeah, maybe he’d gotten off time and time again thinking about Gabriel.  It was nothing compared to the real thing as Gabriel spread Sam's legs, using his grace and they became one.

There was a hitch in Gabriel’s breath and he glanced up at Sam, knowing exactly _that—_ sinking into his body so easily, _too_ easily,made a smirk tug on his feature for a half second.  Before he rolled his hips and it turned into a raw moan.

Sam could feel not just the physical sensation sending waves of pleasure through his body, but the power radiate through him.  It was overwhelming, all of it, but to him…it felt like coming home.  He’d been afraid of Gabriel’s power the first time they’d met because it was insane, the strength one being could yield, but he knew about angels—and the myth of the four archangels.  And how one of them could possible fall for him?  

It wasn’t about power, it was about love, he could feel it as Gabriel rocked into his body, as their gaze locked and spoke volumes without words.  They just needed to feel each other with roaming hands, tender caresses, Sam surging upward to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Gabriel could be a shapeshifter and it wouldn’t change his opinion, he could be a creature of the underworld, it didn’t matter.  It wasn’t about what he was, it was about _who_ he was.  Sam understood why humans gave up everything for those they fell in love with.

He hadn’t even experienced humanity yet, but Sam felt as thought he had a jump start into it as this emotion flooded his system and made him desperate and aching for more.  Clutching at the man and craving it with each thrust into his body—Sam never could have imagined it would have been like this.

“G-Gabriel,” he whined and sucked a kiss into his neck, “Feels amazing, God—you’re a-amazing…I—” he tossed his head back when the archangel sparked something inside him that sent him reeling, unable to form words.

“N-not too bad yourself, Sammy,” he countered with a smirk, holding Sam up as he threatened to fall backwards.  And he liked this angle, he liked being within reach of the Reaper’s lips.  “Just once more, okay, and I won’t ask again.  You want it?”

The breath was stolen from Sam’s lungs as Gabriel deliberately continued to slam against that sweet spot, leaving Sam a slave to his body and a downright mess.  But he had to pull himself together, just for a second, just enough to—

“More than anything.”  It was a plea, it was a _promise_ and coupled with an expression so full commitment that Gabriel could have melted on the spot.

But that wasn’t in the plans for tonight.  Tonight, he made the Reaper his.  Come tomorrow, come humanity, come the after life—Sam would _still be his_.    
  
It was monumental, and normally Gabriel didn’t even know where he’d be in few hours, but this was something he was ready for.  Something he never saw coming, but wouldn’t change for the world.

“Good,” Gabriel nodded his head as he cradled the back of Sam’s with one and ordered, “Hold on to me,” as he used the other palm to cup Sam's forehead.

Sam wrapped one arm around Gabriel’s waist and braced another against the bed, because his hips were relentless.  And, fuck, the Reaper was so damn _close_ …he didn’t know if he should try to hold off, but the pleasure was beginning to build and build and once he felt this sensation of Gabriel’s grace literally igniting his body—he didn’t know which way was up.

He didn’t know for a very long time, if the fact that he was now under the sheets with the archangel leaning on his side, watching over him was an indication.  His chest was heaving and he reached out and grabbed Gabriel’s cheeks, hauling him down for a kiss because he felt…

Different.

He couldn’t explain it.

“Oomph!”  Gabriel laughed happily when Sam pulled away and nonchalantly said, “Wondered when you’d make your appearance.  You…okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great,” he agreed and tugged him closer.  “Are you?”

“Ditto,” Gabriel winked.  “I wasn’t exactly sure if it would take, to be honest.  But it did.”

Sam stared at him blankly for a moment before he repeated, “You weren’t sure it would take?  You were just…firing a shot in the dark?”  He didn’t know what the hell to think, could there have been consequences, could one of them been hurt?  What did that even mean?!

“Well, I kind of mentioned it. Usually _—_ angels bond with angels.  Very, very rarely, they bond with a human.  Hence, nephilim.  Never heard about with a Reaper.  But!  I figured everything has a essence, especially _you_.  Something that make Sam, _Sam_.  I just needed to dig a little, find what that was.  If you can gain Existence, there’s something there that can be bonded.  And that exact something will carry through to when you’re human.”

With his jaw hanging open, now knowing this was so much of an experiment…Sam didn’t know what to say.  Whether he should have smacked him, or thanked him for risking it.  Because it sounded pretty damn dangerous, to be honest.  He knew that it was uncommon but—!

“Hey!” Gabriel kissed his forehead, “Don’t look at me like that!  You’re mine and…I’m yours.  Now it sucks, because I’m gotta wait how many years until I can legally fuck you again?”

That made Sam snort with laughter and snuggle up closer.  “It’ll be a blink of an eye.  Don’t worry.”

“Nah, it won’t be,” he complained, and began running his hands through Sam’s hair.  “’Cause I’ll be watching over you.  And you’ll be all unattainable.  Which will be annoying.”

“But you said I’ll remember you, right?”  His voice held a certain amount of nervousness, now knowing this was, well, unprecedented.

“It’s not like you’ll remember all this when you’re a kid, Sammy.  And that’s for the best.  Fuck knows I don’t want three-year-old-you remembering the phenomenal sex we’ve had.  But once our energies touch?  You’ll remember everything.  You’ll get bits and pieces, but not all of it, not before you’re ready.”  Gabriel hummed out, “You’ll probably feel the distance, like I will.”

Sam instantly asked, “But you won’t keep away.  Right?  Like, as soon as you can.  You’ll come back to me?”

“Duh.  I told you, you’re mine.  I’m gonna low-key fight off the middle school boys and girls who try to get with you too, they just won‘t know it.  Sorry, you probably won’t have a significant other until I come out of the woodwork.  Oh, but I shall.”  Gabriel flashed a look that was downright devilish.

“Really?  Even the middle school kids?”  Sam propped himself up on his elbow with a smirk, “I won’t even get a date to prom?  You’re gonna give me a traumatic childhood full of PTSD!”

“Meh.   _Maybe_ I’ll back off.”  He feigned a pout, “Just for you.  But no sex.  I plan on taking your virginity.”  With a lavish wink, he added, “Twice.”

Sam barked out a laugh and agreed, “So long as I grow up normal, you can have my V-Card.  Again.”

“Puuurfect.”  It was a rumble in Gabriel’s chest and he crawled on top of Sam, squeezing him.  After a slight pause and a sigh, he asked, “How did this happen?”

“Are you mad?” the Reaper asked, trying to cover his own nerves.  “Because it’s kind of too late.”

“Not mad at all.  The Fates have always hated me, that’s why I’m so damn confused.”  Gabriel peered up with a smile that was genuine and downright loving.  “I’m glad I found you before you disappeared out from under me.  Humans…well, they’re more my pupils than anyone I’d consider worthwhile.  I…tend to teach the lessons.  Had I met you as a human, I wouldn’t have looked twice.  You, little did I know were your final days, as a Reaper?  See, I can chit-chat with a Reaper.  And I’m damn glad I did.”

Thank God, that was along the lines of what Sam was hoping for.  Well, _anything_ positive was what he was hoping for.

“You’re right,” Sam couldn’t take his eyes off Gabriel, “Timing.  It’s always a bitch, but in this case, it actually worked out.  So long as you keep up your end of the bargain.  And you have to, not only because we’re bonded—which you said is permanent anyway—but I don’t want Existence now without you.”

“How’s that?  Your mind was made up before I even offered safe passage?” Gabriel drew out quizzically.

“Because,” the Reaper inhaled a deep breath, “one of the biggest things that I’ve always envied about humans is their capacity for love.  And…I have it.  Before I’m even human, which is nuts. So _you_ need to get your ass down to Earth or else my grand scheme is only half complete.”

Gabriel batted his eyelashes and cooed, “That was the most romantic threat I’ve ever heard.  You’ve got a way with words, Sammy.”

“I know.  The irony of it all, right?”  He flirtatious pronounced, “A Reaper threatening an archangel, and said archangel giving in?”

“Got me wrapped around yer little finger, ya know that?  Now, Sam, you gotta promise me something.”  Gabriel’s voice turned serious at the drop of a hat, and Sam’s nod was enough to make him continue.  “Be safe, okay?  When you start to get the memories.  Don’t do anything crazy.  Just let them be, keep living the human life that you wanted.  Before you met me.  Because, like you said, Existence was for _you_ and I don’t wanna be the wrench that ruins it, okay?”

Sam took his words to heart and they meant something, something important.  Because Gabriel was right, because this, _before_ them—Sam had wanted a life all his own and he needed to take it.  Now the catch-twenty-two was how badly he wanted Gabriel.  But if Gabriel wanted him to promise this?  He would.  Because he knew, one day when he was ready for that love he knew he’d fall into on Earth, he wouldn’t have to look far.

With a determined, “I promise, Gabriel,” he held the archangel tighter, because he truly cared for him.  Sam knew that and he sighed, “But I sure will miss you until then, ya know?”

“Heh, I’m gonna miss you, too, kiddo.”  He hauled him into a deep, passionate kiss, one that Sam would remember without a doubt, and when he pulled away, said, “Take care of yourself tomorrow and be safe.  And remember, I love you.  We’re bonded, and I’ll find you.”

They laid there wrapped in one another until they couldn’t anymore and time ran out.  Their parting made Sam's heart ache for a moment, but Gabriel’s love and support was just another push that he needed to get moving.  He could do this.  It truly was what he wanted, and the time was now.


	8. Chapter Seven

There were deep and held breaths, but both Sam and Dean walked tall and proud (as if nothing were amiss) to the location that Bobby had sent them.  Just in case there were eyes on them.  Their superior told them once they entered, they would be cloaked and invisible to the higher ups because of the warding he’d created within the walls, but they needed to get there first.

They needed to make sure not to cause a stir, not to raise any red flags, and considering that they hadn’t tipped Castiel, of all people, off?  Yeah—they assumed they were doing pretty damn good.  They couldn’t afford any last-minute fuck ups now —Sam and Dean were finally in the homestretch.

The location was an old, forgotten house.  The grass was growing tall, vines were using the exterior to climb higher and higher each year, and the perennial flowers were dead—only the wild flowers and weeds thrived.  At first glance, one may assume they were reaping an elderly spinster, although it shouldn’t have required the two of them.  It didn’t matter, they only needed to make it inside to—

Sam turned when he noticed Dean was no longer beside him when he reached the rickety old steps.

He had frozen in his tracks on the sidewalk just a few feet from the walkway, and Sam glanced behind him in confusion.  

He didn’t have to wait long, Dean quickly blurted out, “Should we have told Cas?”

“Dean,” Sam warned in a low voice, “we’re on a time crunch.  We don’t have that luxury anymore.  And for all we know, he could try to stop us, he—”

“But Sammy,” his eyes were flickering everywhere, brought on by his nerves.  “I, he, h-he’s gonna be pissed.  Like, fuckin’ heartbroken!  Maybe we shoulda—”

Sam swung back around and grabbed Dean by his shoulders, forcing him to focus.  “Yes.  He’s going to be mad.  Yes, he’ll probably be hurt, but remember, we tried, okay?  We tried and he refused.  There’s nothing more we can do, and Cas is gonna outlive us both, he’ll have all the time in the world to get over it and move on.”  

“Remember,” Sam pitched his voice to the coaxing way he helped souls move on, “all of us, we were alone for centuries before we’d even known each other’s names.  It’s all right.  We were all together and shared something amazing, something Castiel will remember and hopefully celebrate.  Or it’s something that will fade away because he’ll remain centuries after we’ve passed.  Either way, we keep going.  Right now, we have something extraordinary waiting for us, right here,” his arm gestured to the house before them, it was their way out.

No one could deny the sorrow etched into Dean’s features, but he nodded.  “Yer right.  He will…move on.  Stubborn sonuvabitch,” he cursed, and pushed past Sam and towards the building.

With a sigh, Sam was a bit slower to move because now he felt a niggling of guilt, knowing he had someone waiting on the other side, but Dean _didn’t_.  Even though Dean wouldn’t remember, Cas would probably curse them for eternity.  He couldn’t let that affect him, he picked up the pace and met Dean in front of the door.

They exchanged looks and nodded, Sam grabbing the handle and twisting, both Reapers letting themselves inside.

\---------------------------

It was another day and another soul Castiel had to actively work for (if only he could grab and drag these annoyances) to bring to the Gates of Hell.  This one that _actually_ managed to get under his skin.  The Reapers always received a flash of information, everything they needed to know about their lives to use as tools to help them lead onward.

These…memories he’d been briefed on about this woman.  They grated on his nerves.

Halfway through what Dean referred to as the “download” there had been no doubt in the Reaper’s mind where she was headed.  He’d tried to be kind or at least cordial during their first interaction, but she proved…trying.

Extremely trying.

Before her children had been taken away by social services, her attempt at “mothering” had been drunkenly beating them senseless.  Then rewarding them with material goods to keep them silent.  She’d manipulated them, confused and tormented them for so long, they’d lied to every teacher with words of getting injured in the play area, or falling down stairs.

It wasn’t until the youngest was bleeding and battered to the point of passing out, in need of an actual hospital, that the truth came to light.

She’d sobbed and had done well to sway a jury, just as she had the children and teachers, and her sentence was disgustingly light.

As soon as she’d gotten out, the first place she’d headed was to the bar for a drink.

That’s all she did, even getting a job as a bartender and then seducing one of the regulars into marriage.  She never told him about her history, why would she?  This poor, ignorant man left her alone with his _own children_ to watch during the day as her hours were at night.  
  
That was when the cycle began all over again.  Until he discovered what she was doing to his children, he immediately threw her out and threatened to call the cops.  Right afterward, in an intoxicated daze, while holding a bottle of rum, she ended up wandering into rush-hour traffic.

A semi truck couldn’t shift gears and slam on the brakes quickly enough, and this poor excuse for a human turned into roadkill.

Yet, she wouldn’t comply with Castiel, she refused to believe she was dead, because once the soul left the body they were (to put it plainly) ‘aware.’  She (for the first time in God knows how long) felt the effects of being sober and they were _so foreign to her it_ probably felt like a different state of being.  As though _this_ was her new intoxication.

Castiel had to grit his teeth, explain over and over what happened, and it didn’t work until he actually led her to her mangled corpse.  Maybe it was out of some sick vindication he needed himself.  But when she recognized her body, something inside her foolish brain finally clicked.

She began a sobbing mess, but followed him.  Finally.  And the Reaper was glad to see her rot.

These were the hard times he’d wish to meet up with Sam and Dean, share stories, watch the other two Reapers banter and make him smile.  But it had only been this morning since they’d last met.  Sam was still probably running high on that black coffee he’d ordered—

Castiel paused in thought because…that was odd.  Sam never ordered his coffee black.  In fact, he’d openly expressed his distaste for it, boasting if they were going to be corporeal, they may as well indulge.  He always ordered a Chai Latte, tea, or something similar.

Why black coffee?    
  
It would only remain in his system as long as he remained in his human form.  Why would he continue walking among humans long enough to feel its effects?  They had jobs to do, and you couldn’t reap a soul unless you were within the…

Maybe Sam didn’t plan on reaping today.  And Dean’s case load had been absurdly low, which was another drop in the bucket of Castiel’s confusion.

Not to mention how openly affectionate he’d been at the shop.  Like he couldn’t stop touching Castiel, like he couldn’t get close enough.  He, of course, thought it was because of their bond getting stronger.  Perhaps it was easier—showing Sam rather than saying the words aloud...but what if it was something else?

These little things were beginning to bother him.

Now that he was analyzing them more and more, it was turning into this feeling, this maddening energy he’d never felt before.

Even when they spoke about a future, it was stilted, and brief.  What if they never changed their minds?  What if…

_Shit_.

Castiel closed his eyes and focused on their energy.

They were together, somewhere in Oklahoma.

That was another red flag.

No Reapers worked together until there were multiple souls to reap, let alone the chances of the two, out of the _thousands_ of reapers being paired, the odds were outrageous.  You couldn’t ‘request’ partners to the higher ups, you couldn’t—

But then…something _horrible_ happened.

Their energies, they just…fell off the map.

As though they’d disappeared.

Even in human form, or in Reaper form, they all could feel where another Reaper was.  Castiel had just memorized their signature vibrations, as they had his.  It never just stopped, only changed it bit when their form changed, it was absolutely impossible for the pair to vanish, without a trace.    
  
No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening!

He had to get there, to where he’d felt Sam and Dean’s last location, search for a clue, he had to find them!

Castiel knew, he just _fucking knew_ , that time was short and he had to move!

\---------------------------

The spell work painted against the walls was ancient.  Sam was in awe as he glanced at the dead languages and walked further into the foreclosed house.  Dean didn’t seem to have the same appreciation, his hands were jammed inside his pockets and he was stomping along, looking for signs of their superior.

“Bobby?” Dean gruffly raised his voice.  “We ain’t got time for hide and go…seek…”

His voice trailed off as he turned the corner and his jaw dropped.

Sam nearly ran into Dean’s back, not having seen him stop, still captivated by the sigils and the scent of rare herbs.  Right before he knocked into the other Reaper, Sam caught himself but grabbed his shoulder to brace himself and snapped, “Dean!  What the fu-” but something stopped him and he paled with his friend’s exact same reaction.

_Holy shit._

Bobby was at attention over an alter, ingredients and sacred objects surrounding the old, Sumerian ceremonial bowl, but that wasn’t all.

Next to Bobby, almost as though he was overseeing the scene was the highest power of them all.

_Death_.

Death was literally standing among two grunts of Reapers, and Bobby—who wasn’t even a true Elder, just a mere Superior.  How the hell was this happening?!  Why was he here?  Were they caught?

So soon as this information finally made its way through their brains, both Sam and Dean bowed so quickly they could have gotten whiplash with a stuttered, “S-sir.”

Neither Reaper had ever heard of another meeting Death.  Unless they’d begged, prayed for a reaping, unable to handle the job anymore.  Even then, the most trusted, his own hand-picked small Council may borrow his Scythe and carry it out.  He was that deeply hidden in the darkness.  He never bothered with the lower class of Reapers.  
  
They’d only heard whispers of the Elders being in communication with him.  Death himself, was traveling the cosmos; he wasn’t to be bothered for lower Reapers in this small world known as Earth.  Yet, Bobby had made contact.  And his power, just feeling the black hole, the ultimate Reaper of Worlds, before them...it almost made their knees give out.

While it normally would be the ultimate honor, this was terrifying.  After all, they were leaving and—

Fuck!  Was he here because he wouldn’t allow his foot soldiers to act out and leave like this?

Were _they_ about to be reaped by Death?

“No need to stay like that, boys,” Death crooned, tapping his cane against the wood floor, once, to get their attention.  “You’re here today for something rare, I’ve heard.  If you wish it, you must be _proud_ to wish it.”

Sam was the first to gather his bearings and with a terse nod, confirmed, “I am, sir.  I’m also honored to be in your presence.  I have been happy to serve you all these centuries.  I hope you don’t take it as an insult that we seek Existence, sir.  I-”

“Samuel,” Death interrupted him smoothly and moved like a shadow over to look at him closer.  “You’re correct,  You have served me well.  I’ve heard stories.  The Misericordia Reaper with a heart of gold.”  His aged, boney hand shot up to Sam’s chest as he mused, “Yet, my Reapers _shouldn’t_ have hearts.”

“And you.”  He turned his attention on Dean who was fidgeting, because that’s what he did when he was ready to shit himself.  “The Lepos Reaper, who charms and seduces souls, and fell in love.”  With a brow raised, he clucked his tongue, “Yet, Reapers _shouldn’t_ love.”

Death turned his back and joined Bobby at the altar.  “Normally, when my Reapers become broken I take care of them immediately.”  He raised a significant brow.  “However, neither of you allowed it to affect your work, as others have in the past.  If anything, you excelled because of your flaws.  You’ve proved broken doesn’t have to be a weakness—it can just as well be celebrated, you’re proof.  And now, I suppose, you want a reward?”

“I-It’s not a reward, it’s—” Sam stumbled with his words, because that wasn’t right at all, that was—

“Robert informed me.  It’s ironic his flaw is caring for his charges.”  Death began filling the bowl with the items surrounding it, “Unfortunately, because of that, it appears I’ll have to lose him as well.  He’s been somewhat of a friend,” he glanced up at Bobby with the makings of a smile.

“You mean…you’re gonna let us?” Dean finally found his voice and even went as far as to take a few steps forward.  “Even though we’re ‘broken’ and we should be put down, or whatever?”

“I never said ‘put down,’ Dean.  You misunderstood.  I believe I said that I take care of them.  Some wish to be reaped, some wish for the afterlife and I personally assist.   _No one_ wishes for Existence.  If they did, if they served me well, of course I’d grant them it.”  Death shook his head with a dry chuckle, “I’m nothing like that absent Father those humans pray to.  The one who’s forsaken His children.  I take care of my own.”

Bobby agreed with him and told the two, “Which is why no one wishes for Existence.  They give themselves a new Higher up.  Death is good to his Reapers.  _God_?”  He snorted and rolled his eyes, “Well, I ain’t seen nothing impressive about Him.  Ain't seen much of _anything_.”

Sam and Dean watched in shock as Bobby turned towards Death and stated, “I’m going to miss being under your rule, serving your cause.  And thank you for allowing us this choice.  Thank you for personally being here to see it through.  You’ve always been patient and understanding, and I hope the rest of the idjits continue to stay in line.”

“Unlike these two,” Death gestured the pair forward, and Sam was baffled because if someone had told him he would have witnessed Bobby and Death bantering?  He would have punched him.  No, this was _really_ happening.  And it wasn’t some common spell work that Bobby might pull off.  This was real, a power equal to God was sending them on their way, and as they approached the table, they now knew why they were in corporeal form.

Death dragged a nail across their palms and a fine line of blood beaded up along the three men’s hands, which he gestured to hold over the bowl.  Except, there was something that caught Death’s interest about Sam’s.  After he gave his fair share, Death reached out and his ice-cold touch was almost like a biting frost against Sam’s wrist.

He looked up with amusement dancing in his eyes and said, “Oh, Samuel.  You may be my most bold and tainted Reaper yet.”

“Sammy?” Dean asked with a hint of tension at the word ‘tainted.’  “What’s he talking about?”

But Sam’s jaw was dropped as he looked at Death in confusion and asked, “It’ll carry over, right?”

“Oh, it shall carry forever.  I do hope you meant it, and it wasn’t a whim.”  He allowed Sam’s hand to drop lamely at his side.  “Fascinating.”

A low vibration echoed through the room, a new kind of power, and Death manifested his scythe.  Everyone, just for a moment, felt that hint of terror licking at their spine at the sight of it, but he wasn’t wielding it as a weapon.  He held it as another element to the process.  It turned out to be the final one.

“I’ll thank you once more for your service.  Join hands, now, so your souls may find one another on Earth.  So you may be part of each other’s lives.  So your Existence will mean something as you’re connected to the ones you may call ‘family.’”  He spoke the word he didn’t understand, but knew was important to them, and the men held on tight.

A flame began to sizzle at the base of the blade and they realized this would be the match that struck inside the bowl and sparked the spell, the process—

…It would send them on their way towards becoming a human—manifesting a true soul of their own, to be born anew and gaining their own life—their own journey.    
  
And finally reaching a _true_ Existence.

Except, halfway up the crescent blade, each one of the Reaper’s fine-honed ears picked up the door being slammed shut, the sound of running—

“Bobby!  You said no one would find us!” Sam hissed as the footsteps rushed closer, about to turn the bend and the flames licked further—

“Cas?” Dean gasped, as from around the corner, the disheveled and stunned form of their friend appeared and charged.

This blue eyes were wild and terrified, seeing Death in his true form and his friends seconds away from leaving, “Sam!  Dean!  You can’t go, we need to talk this out!  You _can’t—_ ”

Death paid no mind, and as the very tip of the blade was alight he plunged it downward into the mixture of old magic, which would spur on new life.

Dean looked between the altar, their joined hands, and the Reaper sprinting towards him, his heart pounding and his eyes watering.  “I love you, Cas!”

A fire massive enough to take up the entire room exploded from the bowl and blinded everyone inside.  A swirling smoke, mixed of purple, blue and red intertwined, looped around frenetically and dissolved like the end of a firework, hitting the ground.  Castiel was rubbing at his eyes, shouting out, “Sam!  Dean!” and rushing through the flickering flames.

Yet, when the smoke cleared, once he could breathe again, Cas turned around himself in a circle to find an empty room.  The altar, the ceremonial workings were burned to the floor.  There was nothing that indicated anyone had been here—merely ash and dust.  The four figures that had been standing here when he entered…vanished without a trance.

He’d been too late. He hadn’t recognized the signs.  He hadn’t talked them out of it.  He wasn’t enough to make them turn their backs on this idea…

Castiel crashed down to his knees, and felt as empty as the room.  

But for the first time in his entire long, life he felt the prickling of tears.  The pair were gone, and he was left with this emotion, he was left feeling more human than Reaper.  He was _wrecked_ and now inside the emptiness that was his heart, much worse things were beginning to form.

Knowing he’d probably never see Sam and Dean again?  Yes.  It appeared as though that was enough to shatter his previously unfeeling heart into pieces.  There were too many to pick up, thinking about each shard just cut him deeper and deeper and—

Castiel didn’t leave that room for a very, very long time.


	9. Chapter Eight

Gabriel wasn’t happy.  Not even a little bit.

Yes, there were good things about the Reaper’s being reborn: Sam and Dean were brothers, just as they may as well have been as Reapers.  Bobby was somewhat of a father figure to them, someone significant in their lives—which was fine and dandy.

But that whole ‘American Dream’ Sam had romanticized and wished for during pillow talk, something that he’d longed for and it was one of the very reasons he wanted Existence in the first place?  Well, what he got couldn’t have been further from it.    
  
Fate was a cunt, and these poor fucking kids…

Sure, they were _born_ normal enough.    
  
Until their mother roasted on the ceiling, after Sammy was all but nursed on demon blood, and then raised as hunters.  Fuck!

This was not the life Gabriel wanted for them.  This was…a cosmic joke.  A slap in the face.

And, dammit, all the times Sam, just a friggin kid, was left alone in some janky motel room—it took everything in Gabriel, each ounce of his self-control he had, not to go to him.  Not to fly down there and if only to give the poor kid someone to talk to.  He could see how lonely, how rejected he felt when Dean went hunting with this random soul, John Winchester, and it was carving his future.

One that Gabriel planned on being apart of, but now that these kids knew about what went bump in the night?  What the hell was Gabriel even supposed to do!  He played a fuckin’ _Trickster_ on Earth because everyone thought ‘Gabriel’ was dead!  The only reason Samuel, the Reaper, knew about him was because he could sense his energy and angels and Reapers had no communication with the Host.

It didn’t matter if he knew who he was back then.  But it sure as hell mattered to a group of hunters these days!  What did the pair do to deserve this punishment?  Or was awareness a gift in the end?  Who knew, but Gabriel certainly thought it was bullshit whichever way you flung it.

What he didn’t know, because he never got close enough, was the nights Sam would crawl into bed with Dean when John was away.  When he was young and his imagination ran wild.

When he would tell his big brother, after a rough day, that everything would be okay.  Because he _knew_ he ‘had an angel watching over him.’  And Sam also knew that _Dean ‘_ had a Reaper who’d protect him, too.’

Dean laughed and ignored it, thinking it transpired from when Mom would tell him before bed that “Angels were watching over him,” but the thing was, he’d never told Sammy that.  So the fact that he’d come up with it on his own was interesting.  Not to mention Sam had picked a Reaper, of all things, as Dean’s ‘guardian angel.’

It was enough to make Dean laugh and smile, because Sam believed in it so wholeheartedly, almost by the time he was able to speak.  Even _before_ he got the ‘monsters are real’ talk.  That was another reason it intrigued Dean.

He humored him until the day he snapped that Sam was an idiot, they weren’t watched over by a goddamn thing or else they would’ve saved them already, after a hunt gone bad.  And from that day forward Sam never spoke of it again.  He still believed for awhile in silence.  At least until _he_ began hunting and wondered why, if he had a guardian angel, it hadn’t shown up yet like Dean had said?

Sam tried to block out the memories, because they were too good to be true.  Maybe it was something his childish brain had made up to make things seem better, to give him _hope_.  The more they hunted, the more John yelled at him and the more Dean tended to take their father’s side, the more discouraged Sam became.  And without that silver lining there anymore, he needed to make one for _himself_.

He wanted to get out as soon as he could.  He wanted to escape this life: just as he had wanted to escape being a Reaper—even though he didn’t have those memories.

Sam couldn’t find his place in the world anywhere, it seemed.

\-------------------------

Eight.  That was how many vengeful spirits had refused his guidance and made the choice to stay on Earth this month, alone.

Castiel was slipping, he had been ever since Sam and Dean went through with it, all without telling him, they really had chosen Existence.  It was an acute loss that hurt each day.  Normally, the weeks, the years would simply fly by, but time had slowed without his friends.  Without their meeting, without the joy of seeing their faces, without their company.

He couldn’t even go down to Earth to find them, or else the feeling of anger would light up inside him.  Yet…he yearned to.

Who knew his own day-to-day would be so affected, so miserable, so downright pathetic without them.

It made sense, he’d experienced love and then lost it.

Yet, he didn’t regret the choice to stay a Reaper.  He continued to see the disgusting and bottom feeding parts of humanity with more than half the souls he reaped.  Castiel wanted none of that.  Humans were beneath him, he’d never choose to become one, never in a million years.

He was sitting on a familiar park bench where he used to meet up with Sam and Dean after yet another failure with a vehemently forceful soul.  Castiel realized that the fault wasn’t with the humans, it was the fact that he, himself, just didn’t give a shit anymore.

He supposed this was what depression was like.  And it was something that Reapers shouldn’t face in the first place.  He’d done this to himself, he’d dug his own grave.

With a jolt, the energy of another incredibly powerful being flew into the ethereal plain, right next to him.  Cas whipped his attention to the casual _archangel_ who was simply looking out onto the playground, while the Reaper’s jaw had dropped at the overwhelming strength pulsing from him.  He’d _never_ felt power like this before…

“You’re the Probitas Reaper I used to hear so much about, right?”  The archangel grinned and turned to Castiel.  “Name’s Gabriel.  You broke some hearts, ya know.”

Suddenly, the pieces connected and Castiel forgot about formality, blurting, “You were the angel Sam was fixated on.”

With a snort of laughter, Gabriel shrugged, “You could say that.  Miss the little bugger, but he made his choice.  One that you should’a considered, too.”  He stared him down and raised an eyebrow.  “You gonna introduce yourself anytime soon, or…?”

“Castiel,” he quickly stated, but wasn’t sure what to make of this visit.  “Is there something I can help you with?”  Was he just here to bother him about his choice?  He didn’t need to hear that, he thought about it daily and—

“On the contrary, I believe that _I_ may be able to help you.”  There was nothing but mischief in his voice when he turned his body to give Cas his undivided attention.  “Once Sam and Dean are reaped, I can almost guarantee you’ll be in their Heaven and they’ll remember you.  I know that you never wanted to let go of them, but this Reaper bit has some limits.  But!  There are other options.  Options that don’t involve Earth and eighty five years before you’re done-zo.”

With intrigue, Castiel asked, “You have an offer.  Something that would allow me to be with Sam and Dean yet wouldn’t force me into a human existence?”

“Yep.  Might be tricky, but I’m never one to turn down a challenge!  Oh—by the way, they‘re brothers on Earth.  In case you were wondering.  Got some more tidbits, but I think it‘d be better if you saw for yourself.”  Gabriel explained without pretense, “Reapers and _Angels_?  There isn’t much of a difference.  Sure, home bases are far away, but powers are almost identical.  The only thing that’s different is angels are warriors, they can’t walk the Earth without a vessel, but they’re free to roam in Heaven and have free rein inside dreamland.”

“Are you suggesting…?” he was wide-eyed and baffled, “Is there even a way—?”

“I know _just_ the guy.”  The archangel stood up and gestured, “Wanna go on a little trip?”

The word, “Yes,” came out of Castiel’s mouth before he could even think it.

If there was a way, anyway, to be reunited with Sam and Dean?  Castiel would take it.  And with the assistance of an archangel: this may actually work.

\----------------------------------

“Gabriel!  You’ve got to stop showing up here!” a slightly disheveled man in a robe admonished him.  With a long chug from the cup of whiskey in his hand, he glanced over at Castiel.  “Oh, I saw this coming.  Thought it would’ve been sooner, but…whatever.”

The Reaper watched with curiosity as the man stumbled over the refill his glass and Gabriel called out, “So whatcha think?  You obviously knew about it, saw he’s a great little employee, and he’d make a _helluva_ angel, right?”  He marched up and slung an arm around this mystery, who Castiel was still not understanding, to press, “C’mon.  I’ll leave you alone for at least another decade or two.  _Please_?”

“Your stake in this is Sam Winchester, isn’t it?”

With a beat, Gabriel said, “Not fair.  Reading my mind.”

“And his are both the Winchesters.”

Castiel was dumbstruck, but he’d had enough and finally stopped the pair, asking, “And who, exactly, are you?  How are you going to help and why do you have this information?”

Gabriel whistled low and waggled his finger.  “Careful, kid.  This is Chuck.  On Earth, that is.  But he’s in witness protection as much as me.  Angels don’t know where to find him.”  With a shark-like grin, he delivered the line, “Cassie, meet God.”

The Reaper completely locked up.    
  
He’d insulted _Him_.  He’d been disrespectful, he’d—

“Don’t worry,” Chuck assured him.  “Gabriel’s done much worse. I’m hiding out, like he said.  And, now that that’s out of the bag, Reaper to angel?  Shouldn’t be that hard.  But do you really want it?”

Castiel needed to kick himself to get with the program, both God _and_ an archangel were silently waiting for his reply, and maybe he was a bit awestruck.

“Yes.  Even though Gabriel sprung it on me, it makes sense.  I excel at following orders, and I care deeply for the…Winchesters,” the word felt foreign on his tongue, “I’d do anything to see them again.  I’d proudly serve you instead of Death, I’d—”

“Okay, I get it, but wow!  You’re something special.  A _Reaper_ who found camaraderie and love,” Chuck grinned widely, a little drunk.  “I can see you in the Winchester Gospels, for sure.”

“The…what?” Cas wondered aloud, “Is that—”

“Oh, I’m posing as a prophet.  I’m working on the prologue right now.  But once you’re an angel?  You’ll forget this encounter.  I’ll allow you to remember Sam and Dean, but not much else.  After all, a seraph needs to follow orders, not question the higher ups.  Even though I can already see you being a problem.”

Castiel did a double-take, “And you’re _smiling_ about that, why?”

“Free will.  It’s one of my favorite creations.  Why I love humans and it’s something that the angels need to learn.  You’re a Reaper who found free will, no doubt you’ll help the angels in Heaven discover it, as well.  I keep telling Gabriel he needs to return and—”

“Blah, blah, blah,” the archangel interrupted and rolled his eyes.  “You know why I’m doing what I’m doing, Dad.”

Chuck rolled his eyes, “That doesn’t mean that I can’t have an opinion about it.”

This was the most bizarre encounter, something Castiel couldn’t have thought up in his wildest dreams.  Watching God argue with one of his ‘sons’ like it was merely another family moment…but he realized that this would soon be wiped from his memory, and that made him happy.  He felt warm to know that God had accepted him into His Kingdom and maybe, somewhere deep down, he was relieved to be rid of death.

“Well.  Now that it’s official, are you ready, Castiel?”  Chuck asked with a benevolent aura, setting down his glass.

“Yes, I believe I am,” it was breathy and full of longing.

“Very well,” he approached, and told him, “Your memories will be altered.  But the ones that matter will remain.”

God put a palm on Castiel’s forehead and said, “May you no longer be a slave to the dying, but be a champion to the living.  May you be one of My sons, surrounded by family in Heaven.  I bestow upon you the wings to carry you there, leaving Death and mourning far below.”

A heat overwhelmed him from head to toe.  Castiel couldn’t think, he could only _feel—_ and the last thing he saw was both Chuck and Gabriel smiling at him as a different energy— _grace—_ transformed him at his very core.

He was alive.  He was reborn.    
  
He knew no fear and harbored no shame.  He was a warrior and had a purpose again.  The sadness was gone, and something innately different had taken its place.

Castiel could now finally, finally watch over Sam and Dean without the heartbreak he’d felt.  He had another chance, and that made him feel light, the weight of the world disappearing from his shoulders during his ascent, carried by wings.  
  


\----------------------------

It was an experiment just to see what would happen.  Up until now, Gabriel hadn’t really had a good chance.  Either Dean was hovering, or even worse—John was harassing the kid.    
  
He should have expected this would happen eventually.  Sam was independent, he’d made the personal choice to leave his job as a Reaper, and here on Earth, he’d left “The Family Business.”

Yet, how long would that last?

Gabriel was perched at the bar eyeing a demon chatting animatedly with Sam, just _knowing_ it was a sign that he couldn’t stay at Stanford for long.  He was listening, he perked up his angel ears as he took a sip of his drink and eavesdropped on the conversation.

It was something about this dick introducing him to a cute blonde girl and—

Nope.    
  
That’s where Gabriel would cut off his eavesdropping, right there, thank you.  He didn’t want to listen to anymore of that conversation or else his be fuming with jealousy.

Yet...he’d stayed away, no matter how much he longed to be a part of Sam’s life and now, these years, now that Sam was an actual adult Gabriel felt it, well, appropriate to make an appearance.  But _only_ if Sam wanted it, and he could still feel it.  Because, dammit, Gabriel felt the missing piece that was the former Reaper every damn day.

Sam was a little tipsy as Gabriel reached out with his grace, it was nothing more than a light brush to get Sam’s attention.  See if it’d even work.  You know, before he was introduced to this chick and the archangel went into full-on green-eyed-monster mode.

He hadn’t expected Sam to freeze one second, and then look desperately around the bar in the next.

Gabriel ducked back to his drink because, _fuck_!  You would’ve thought Gabriel dropped a damn bomb on the kid from that reaction!  What the hell!

There was a hand on his shoulder before he knew it, and he slowly turned, straw still hanging in his mouth.  Gabriel was faced with a pair of confused, wide, curious yet enthralled puppy eyes.  This wasn’t the way you behaved around a stranger, he clearly knew, because personal space flew out the window and Sam’s hand cupped Gabriel’s cheek.

Still, his words came with difficulty, “You—” Sam tripped over his own tongue, “It’s like I…what’s happening?  I’ve known you _forever_.  You’re…” he squinted, taking in the grin that was beginning to spread on Gabriel’s face (he was too damn adorable, okay?!) then blurted, “You’re mine.”

“Wow,” Gabriel clapped gleefully, then shoved Sam down on the bar stood next to him and pulled them close enough for their legs to touch.  “Can’t say that was on the list of the first words I thought our reunion would bring!”  With a twinkle in his eye, he added lewdly, “Won’t lie and say I didn’t like it.”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry!  I didn’t—”  Sam scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to make sense of the jumbled mess of memories he’d written off as imagination in his head.  When he looked back up, there were shots lined up for them.  Hesitantly, he asked, “Gabriel…right?”

With a nod of confirmation, he sensed through their bond that, while Sam had naturally initially (his knee-jerk reaction) been utterly thrilled, now he was...scared _._  Gabriel dropped a gentle hand to his thigh and gestured to the booze, “Wanna drink and chat?”

Sam's answer was a shaky hand that lashed out to grab the drink before Gabriel even had a chance to lift his.  The archangel snorted and tossed the shot back, meeting the hesitancy in Sam’s eyes.

“So,” he began to trace shapes along Sam’s leg before he began, “I’m Gabriel, you’re Sam and I’ve been waiting your whole life to see you again.  You’re right—we’re each others.  You can feel it, fuck, it feels amazing to actually touch you again.  And I did _not_ mean that in a creepy way at all!  What do you need to know?”

Sam was watching him carefully and reached down to hold his hand instead, “Wow.  Just… wow.  I…feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life, too.  But I didn’t know for what, so you've got one-up on me,” he snorted and shook his head.  “Seeing you, it’s coming back—fuck, it’s _all_ coming back _—_ ”

He jerked out of Gabriel’s hold and winced, moving with unsteady motions to clamp his clenched hands over his head.  It was _pulsing_ , aching, like there was another heartbeat pumping memories instead of blood through his brain and he looked helplessly to Gabriel.  Before he even opened his mouth, the stifled whine told the archangel everything he needed to know.

Gabriel stood up and ordered, “If you can make it to the door, I can fly us out of here,” in a rush.  “I’ll take care of you, I’ll help you get everything sorted.  Will you let me?  Do you trust me?”

Sam was already moving, dropping one hand and trying to stand tall as they made a beeline for a door,  _any door_ , and that happened to be the smoker’s patio.  It didn’t matter which one, Gabriel merely needed an exit for the illusion.  And Sam found it laughable, obviously he trusted him, but just to emphasize it, he reached out and leaned on him as they reached the handles.

What should have been a fenced in patio, with old weather-worn furniture and a haze of cigarette smoke and weed ended up with the pair charging into what looked like a freakin’ presidential suite at a hotel.  What was even more odd, was that Sam’s club clothes had melted away into pajamas and he wasn’t freaked out.

He just headed for the bed and collapsed, doubling over as the past bombarded his present and it _hurt_ , goddammit!  It hurt!

“Fuck, Sammy…” Gabriel didn’t know what to do.

He knew what he wanted to do.

He just…didn’t know where he stood.

Normally, he wouldn’t miss a beat, wrapping Sam up in his arms and soothing him until everything settled.  And he seemed to trust Gabriel, he’d joined him, he’d followed him, he’d, well, verbally laid claim to him without a thought.  Still, this was bizarrely new.

After all, in this life, this was his first time meeting this Sam.

Gabriel had never felt out of control like this!  He needed to gain some back, in order to help the freakin’ man he loved in front of him out of this pain.  Because he could heal him, if it was like that, or calm him, anything!

“Sam, c’mere,” he whispered, moving to lean against the headboard.

That’s when Sam launched.  And Gabriel wondered why he hadn’t done that sooner.

Sam clung to him and Gabriel held back just as tightly, kissing his brow and brushing his fingertips along his brow, hoping to slow this, whatever this was.  While it eased a little of the tension from his body, Sam was still panting, and it wasn’t the sexy kind.

Gabriel sweetly ran his hands through Sam’s hair and asked a hushed, “Tell me what to do.  Tell me how I can help.  Please, I need to do _something_.”

Slowly, Sam brought his head up and the archangel swept the fallen locks away from where they'd matted from sweat  “I think…I think I remember it.  Us.   _All_ of us.”  And then Gabriel was completely engulfed in those long limbs, as Sam shuttered, “Holy fuck, thank you.  For coming back to me.  My life, the way it turned out…I could see you not wanting to.  I could see you deciding you were done.”

“Me?  Staying away from you?  I like danger,” Gabriel’s arms were looped low on Sam’s waist.  “Although, I gotta tell ya—since there’s this pesky fact you’re a hunter?  You probably know that angels don’t walk the Earth, and I’m _not_ an angel down here either, kiddo.  I play a Trickster on TV.  Specifically, Loki.  So try not to hunt me, okay?”

Sam retracted enough just to catch a grin, one that made him laugh and shake his head.  “I always wondered.  I mean, about angels.  Dean…he humored me when I was young.  And then he just thought I was being an idiot.  That angels didn’t care, that God wasn’t real and I…” he paused, chewing on his lip, “that’s when I started to think it was all a dream.”

“I’m sorry, Sammy.  You remember now, though.  That you were never crazy.”  Gabriel adjusted them so they were both laying down and speaking up close.  “Those were the terms.  You have no idea how many times I almost broke.  How many times I almost gave in.  Fuck, I wanted so badly to flutter my ass down here,” he traced Sam’s sharp jaw line, “to take care of you.”

With a happy sigh, Sam was content listening, captivated with the sight he’d missed without knowing, and now that it was real and not a childhood fantasy?  He was on cloud nine.

With a slight growl in his tone, Gabriel confessed, “When I saw you and Dean-o were born hunters?  Fate is a cold, hard bitch.  It complicated things.  I knew it would, because if you’d grown up normal?  Maybe been a good little church go-er—maybe you’d have, I dunno, kept faith in me?”

“I always…felt faith in you.  And it drove me _insane_ because I didn’t want to, but it never left.  Even when I told myself that it was the same thing as a kid’s imaginary friend, an imaginary angel watching over me?  I couldn’t kick it.”  His eyes were downcast as he said, “Dean…hated when I said it.  He hated me for it.”

Gabriel rolled closer, so they could tangle their legs together.

“It’s probably because of, ya know, his lingering history.  With Cas.”

At the drop of a hat, Sam’s eyes doubled in size and he demanded, “How is he?!  What happened?  Was he furious?  Will he ever see us again?  Please, tell me he’s okay—”

Gabriel silenced him with one, chaste kiss.  Just to calm his nerves.  

And when he pulled away, he wiggled his eyebrows, “I may have worked some magic.  Something to give Dean another chance with him, too.”

“Gabriel!  Are you serious?!”  Now, Sam was grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, this urgency turning physical.  “Cas is—” he tried to form the words, “He’s family.  He was so important to us, we—”

“Well, he’s _my_ family now too,” Gabriel winked and gestured down to where Sam had grabbed his shirt, “Now, this could be very sexy or mildly threatening.  The ball’s in your court, Moose.”

That adorable blush dusted his cheeks as he noticed that he had manhandled him and was beginning to shift his weight overtop of Gabriel.

Carefully and specifically, Sam chose his words.  “Cas is safe.  And you’ve done something to help us.  Is that what I’m understanding?” while moving a little more deliberately.  In the direction of hovering over Gabriel.

He could see Sam’s game, and he pitched his voice low and seductive, “Yes, if you want to see him later, you say the word.  If you want to see more of me right now,” he glanced downward to Sam’s fists then back up to his eyes, pupils dilating with excitement, “Well, that’s all up to you.  I heard you say that ‘I’m yours’ before, didn’t I?”

Sam accidentally moaned as Gabriel’s words went directly south.  With a husky timbre, he demanded, “Tell me you’re mine and—” he faltered for a second, but then mustered up the courage to ask, “Show me you’re real?”

It was an act of vulnerability, mixed in with that desire and it almost broke Gabriel’s heart.

Since Sam had kept believing, feeling, knowing that Gabriel was out there for him, against all odds and those who shot him down.

Fuck, if he wasn’t going to make this amazing for the kid.

Gabriel could feel an all-encompassing energy of love roll through him as his power ordered Sam’s attention and he promised, “I’ll show you over and over just how real I am.  How you’re mine, I’m yours, we've always belonged  together.  Cancel all yours plans tomorrow—hell, this reunion is lasting all week.  You can bet I’m not letting that perfect ass of yours out of bed.  Not after how long I’ve waited.”

The feral glow in Gabriel’s eyes excited Sam to no end.  He wanted to feed the fire, push him, and enjoy every second of it.


	10. Chapter Nine

When Gabriel got the text: ‘ _you know ur interfering with the timeline too much'_ he honestly couldn’t stop laughing.

Which was why he responded:

_‘and you care…y?  Thought u’d like it better this way.  U never wanted the apocalypse.  Or r u pissed off about ur up-and-coming writing career?’_

Yeah, it was pretty damn hilarious that Gabriel, Archangel of Heaven, was texting shorthand to the Almighty God who was being downright fussy.  Not angry or righteous, just annoyed.  Because, yeah, there were certain things that Dean and Sam had been destined for, but Gabriel didn’t like them.

He didn’t like them one bit.    
  
That _may_ have been part of the reason he lured Castiel (okay not really lured.  The Reaper was almost begging for it) into Seraph Land.  Besides, Gabriel and Sam had bonded before he had his human body.  Before he was born into the Winchester bloodline.  None of this was his fault, and Chuck couldn’t say that it was!  It was a huge fucking coincidence, a cosmic punchline, and Gabriel couldn't have planned it this way if he'd tried.

In fact…that prompted him to pick the phone back up.

_‘u already know, but I bonded w sam before he was human.  How was I supposed to know a random reaper would choose existence then join a line of possible vessels’_

_‘not possible.  THE vessels!!!’_

Gabriel snorted at the response and rolled his eyes.

_‘again, not my problem…’_

But _before_ he sent it, be paused because yeah, this may be towing the line a bit.  Even though it appeared to an outsider that he and Chuck were friends, this _was_ God.  Gabriel deleted the text and reworded it before it was sent.

_‘I couldn’t have known.  I don’t even know if_ you _could have, since Death’s territory isn’t really on your radar.  I’m not going to leave Sam alone.  I can’t, and I understand if that’s worth punishment, but he means too much to me.’_

After Gabriel sat and read it, he came to a realization.  That he, a creature of pure selfish and immoral ambitions, would now willingly sit and await judgment to protect someone else.  Someone who he’d come to love and who he now placed before his own well-being.  That revelation, written in text, was real.  It was…shocking.

Of course, he knew it, he felt it, but seeing it with his own two eyes and telling his Father?  Wow.

“Gabe…” Sam grumbled from where he was pillowed again his chest, swatting at the phone.  “Put that away.  C’mon, I’ve got an exam in the morning.  Who the hell are you even talking to?”

“My other boyfriend,” Gabriel teased with a grin, kissing the crown of his adorable, sleepy human’s head.

With a huff of his own, Sam grabbed the phone from his hand and tossed it at a wall, because he knew Gabriel would stop it mid-flight (which was exactly what he did) and mojo it over to charge into the wall.

He readjusted himself and informed Gabriel, “You get another boyfriend, I get the right to kill him…”

“Oo, your jealousy is making me all tingly—”

“ _And_ you,” Sam capped off his sentence and nipped Gabriel’s throat playfully.  But before things could get carried away, he emphasized, “Exam.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Sleepy, Sasquatch.  I’ll watch over you.”

“Mmm.”  That was Sam’s happy sigh as he squeezed Gabriel tighter for a brief moment with a “Love you,” and was out like a light.

Yeah.  Gabriel would take the punishment.  He’d take it in a heartbeat, because he refused to let the demons surrounding and circling Sam to get any closer.  He wanted the kid to have the life he dreamed of, had fought for during two rounds—this third time being the charm.  Gabriel was going to be here, dropping his Trickster gig in exchange for watching Sam get through Law School.

No vessels would be taken.  No Apocalypse Now would happen, and any byproducts from the damn blood Sam had been fed as a baby, Gabriel would handle.  There was just one more thing on his list to fix.  Then, everything would be coming up roses.

\---------------------

“Cas—”

“No, I won’t hear of it!”

“Why won’t you just—”

“Gabriel, no.”

Every time the topic was brought up, the angel (former Reaper) became tense and immediately took to pacing.  It didn’t matter where they met, be it a nice, secluded beach, somewhere in the Alps or the vast stretches of uninhabited Africa.

Yes, Gabriel spoke to Castiel only on Earth because the archangel’s existence wasn’t known to Heaven, but it would be about random mundane things.  The moment Gabriel brought up the Winchesters?  It sent Cas into a tizzy, even though the whole point of the meetings (Gabriel's endgame) was to crack the newly-made angel.

However, Castiel was so stubborn, he didn’t even think an “order from a superior angel” would do the trick.

Gabriel had Castiel figured out.  Now that he’d spent enough time with him, he could see the way the guy used logic to talk his way out of any situation.  It was infuriating, especially for a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of person like Gabriel.  Sure, he could bullshit with the best of them, but Castiel was obnoxiously…brainy.

“Sam wants to see you.”

That statement caused Castiel to freeze in his steps, and before he could think about his words, he asked with hope, “Really?”

“Yeah.  Dude, he’s been talking about you since he was a _child_ , since he couldn’t make sense of any of this!  The only reason I got a pass and was on his mind was because of the bond.  But the entire time, he babbled about a damn Reaper!  A Reaper who was family.  Kinda creepy, for a four year old to tell their big brother that he had a fuckin’ Reaper looking out of them, right?” Gabriel knew he had piqued Castiel's interest.  “Obviously, Sam has missed you if he’s talked about you since the second he could form words.  Who knows?  Could’a even been his first!”

“Then he shouldn’t have—”

“Ah, shove it!”  Gabriel abruptly shut him down.  Instead, he charged into his space, grabbed both the seraph’s shoulders and shook him.  Jolting him.  “You did a reverse dark-side turn.  For them.  Now you’re a warrior of God, _able_ to see them—why the hell aren’t you?!  You were gung-ho for the change!  Didn't miss a beat!  What was the point of doing it?!”

“To…” Castiel deflated, “protect them.”

“Well, it’s gonna be all kinds of awkward if you come in swingin’ and that’s the first time they see you.”  He was in take-no-shit mode.  “The time is now.  Just…trust me on this.”

Still, he didn’t appear convinced.  His brow was furrowed, his eyes were narrowed and he didn’t appear any more willing to flutter his ass down and do what needed to be done.  Maybe Gabriel needed a different approach.

“All right, listen, Cas.  I’m gonna get cheesy.  And I’m glad everything thinks I’m dead, so you cannot repeat his.”  He still pointed a threatening finger.  “Every…” he cleared his throat and collected his thoughts.  “Every second I get to spend with Sam is a gift, okay?  Every second is a second I wish I had spent earlier.  I know.  About you and Dean-o.  And I know that you’re making a huge friggin mistake by hiding in the shadows.  I know that if he knew you were out there, he’d look for any and every summoning ritual he could to get your ass back to him.  But the thing that sucks is he _doesn’t_ know.  But you can change that.”  Gabriel made sure Cas was still with him, and for once he was intrigued.

“You’re holding out on him.  Yeah, what he did was fucked up but he did it for Sam, just like he’d do it for _you_.  And now, you’ve taken a step to be with both of them.  What’s keeping you away?  Why are you afraid?”  Gabriel made sure to sound supportive, because he needed to crack him.

Sam truly was getting anxious.  He missed Castiel like crazy, and was pestering Gabriel.  And the more he did, the more Sam felt like his former companion never wanted to see him again.  Even though Gabriel knew the problem didn’t lie with Sam, he couldn’t get his damn Moose to accept that.

“I…” Castiel was visibly attempting to work up the nerve; this was progress!  “I wished to join angelic rank to watch over them.  Not lean over their shoulder.  I always anticipated this working from a distance, and—”

“Friendship and love like that _ain’t_ long distance, pal!” Now it was Gabriel who was on the verge of snapping.  “No more excuses!  Do you love them, or not?!”

“Of course, I do!”

“Then you either go to them, or I’m gonna hop my happy ass over to Dean, give him back his memories and you’re going to have some explaining to do!”  Gabriel mocking said, “’Cause you know what we call that?  Heartbreak.  I feel sorry for the kids.”

“You wouldn’t understand!  You could follow Sam, no matter where he went!  And you didn’t have the relationship the three of us had, you—” Castiel was grasping at straws, the last thing he wanted was to hurt Dean, which in his mind amounted to keeping his distance.  Letting him live his life.

“Yeah, that’s what’s funny, Cas.  I’ve done more following Sam and being in his life, for someone who found and fell in love with him at the bottom of the ninth, than you did as the first batter up.  And you have the same damn capabilities as I do!  When is it going to get through your fuckin' skull that the only thing standing in your way is you?” he snarled and had to fall back.

He couldn’t be this close, he was going to lash out because the more he spoke to Castiel, the more his normal logic didn’t make sense.  And it was grating.  Gabriel wanted to light up a ring of holy oil around this asshole, throw him in a room with Sam and Dean and let it all play out.

But he couldn’t.

He wanted to, but that would be unfair to Dean.  The only reason he really cared—since he hadn’t even met the guy—was because of how much Sam loved him.  Through both his lives.

Castiel’s edge turned soft, almost demure and it was probably in their wiring—the flash of fury rushing through an archangel, naturally humbling a seraph.

That was probably Gabriel’s cue to hit it, too.

“I’ve done all I can.  I don’t know what else to say to you.  Just know, Sam is really taking it personally.  I constructed your corporeal Probitas Reaper form so you won’t have to dirty talk any poor sap into saying yes to get your sea legs back on Earth.”  Gabriel snapped and a wave of energy burst through the air, sending the specific image and location to Castiel for retrieval.  “You’re welcome.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, feeling as defeated as he did most times when he was finished meeting with Castiel and grumbled out, “I hope you choose to use it.”

Before he could take flight, Castiel surprised him by shouting, “Wait!”

While he stumbled in his step, a raised eyebrow and a look of interest said he was waiting.  Impatiently.

“I’m sorry.  Can you apologize to Sam for me?  It’s not him, it’s me.  I’m still finding my place.  I wish it to be with them, but I don’t know if they’d want me.  The Host, it’s a place where everyone is a Brother and a Sister.  I felt that with Sam and Dean.  And now, they’re _true_ brothers.  Would I hold a place with them anymore?” he wondered aloud in a hushed whisper, “I truly do not know.  I don’t know where I fit.  I’m in transition and it’s difficult.  I felt like I had a home with them, but after they left me behind it‘s…different.”

Just the lingering ache managed to break past Gabriel thick skin because, all right, maybe he understood that part.

“Hey, chin up, Cas.”  He smiled sincerely, “I may not be family, but I do know I have a place with Sam.  You were family, you’re always family.  Sam talks about you as much as he speaks about Dean.  Shit, if Dean only knew _…_ ” Gabriel cursed, “you gotta do it.  Sometimes we gotta close our eyes and jump.”

Chuckling, Gabriel reminded him, “You already jumped once.  You’d think changing everything about who you are would be the tough one, right?  C’mon.  You’re a strong badass.  Reclaim your place.  You’re better than all this insecurity.  And with that, I’m going back to my man!  To tell him that I failed in bringing you back.”  He added wryly, “Again.”

“It won’t always be like this,” Castiel decided, as though he made his mind up at that moment.  “I’ll find the body, I’ll—”

“Maybe not make it sound that creepy…”

“Gabriel,” he rolled his eyes, “I will figure it out.”

“Good.”  He was spurred on by a flicker of hope and walked up to pat him on the cheek.  “We’ll be waiting.”

\------------------------

When Gabriel returned to the bedroom, so many things were off.

No only was he alone in the bed, but there was another presence in the apartment, and there was a clattering.  His guard instantly shot up, even though not a damn thing about this made any sense!  Sam had let him ward this place to the gills, no demon, no monster, no _nothing_ should be able to even enter, let alone put up a fight but—

“Jesus, Dean!  You scared the crap out of me!” he heard from the kitchen.  
  
It was instantly followed with a witty, “Sorry you’re so out of practice, dude, I was just looking for a beer.”

“Bullshit.  Why are you here?” Sam’s voice was wary, as it should be, and that sounded like a perfect time for Gabriel to make his appearance.

Sure, he’d watched Dean grow up.  He’d witnessed the way he’d taken care of Sam since he’d been damn near an infant with his own eyes since John wasn’t exactly Father of the Year material.  But Gabriel had yet to officially _meet_ the older hunter.  This ex-Lepos Reaper, who wouldn’t think twice about changing his gig and becoming human, if it meant being there for his friend.  There may have been a few things about Dean in thishuman life that rubbed him the wrong way, but Gabriel had always been amazed, and found his loyalty staggering and damn impressive.

He flipped the light on which illuminated both the kitchen and the living room and went along with the human charade, asking dumbly, “Uh, what’s going on in here?”

Sam smiled right away, but Dean's expression was utterly stunned.  Yet, he quickly covered it up by a forced devil-may-care grin.  Interesting.  Very interesting.  Oh— _oh!_  Gabriel hadn’t even _thought_ about outing Sam, but that may have been what he did.  It wasn’t like he gave a flying fuck, but…well, he would see how this played out.

“Gabe, this is my brother, Dean.  He doesn’t know how to knock.  Dean, this is Gabriel,” Sam introduced them like an excited puppy, even going the distance to grab his hand and drag him towards Dean.  “I feel like you two should have met forever ago!”

“Forever?” Dean echoed, his eyes doubling in size, “Wait— _what_?  I mean, how long…?  Am I—?”  He comically shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around the concept and stating dumbly, “That’s Sam’s shirt.”

“Yes,” Gabriel responded slowly, “I like to steal his clothes when we go to bed.  They’re like a dress.  And I like to pretend I’m a princess.”

Sam slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter, because Dean was still processing, but that one seemed to do it.

“Boyfriend?”  His jaw dropped.

Shyly, but happily, Sam laced their fingers together and announced, “More than that,” without a care in the word.

And, damn, if that didn’t make Gabriel light up.  The fact that he didn’t even bother to hide them, that he didn’t even hesitate or grapple for a cover-up story.  Nope, he was so confident in them, in their forever, that he not only just came out to his brother but made the weight of their relationship known.

“M-more?” Dean blinked, still gaping and catching up.  “How long have you two even known—?  You know what?  I’m not here to judge.”  He turned his act around and said to Gabriel, “Whatever makes my little brother happy, makes me happy.  Sorry I’m acting like a clown right now, I was left outta the loop.  I’m sure you’re awesome, none’a this has to do with you.”

“Aw, appreciate that, Dean-o,” Gabriel winked.  “You just dropping by in the middle of the night for shits and giggles?  Our couch folds out if you drove through the night.  I can snap up some blankets and pillows,” he offered, and Sam had to keep from snickering because of how literal it was.

“That’s nice of you, but I’m stayin’ in town.  If I’d have known Sam was living with his…man, I wouldn’t have pulled that stunt.  Just wanted to see how his reflexes were.  I was hoping, if you could spare him, that he’d come with me for the weekend actually.”  Slowly, his focus turned from cordially speaking with Gabriel, to meaningfully hinting towards Sam.

“Why?” Sam asked, “What’s this weekend?”

“Dad’s on a hunting trip.  And he hadn’t been back in a few days.”  Dean pressed the words, and Gabriel could feel Sam’s hand, still in his, tighten with tension.

Gabriel decided to go for it.  “What’s he hunting?”  

“All kinds of things.  But he’s usually back by now,” Dean kept his focus on his brother, “I’ve tried calling him, he won’t pick up.  I’m worried.”

The last thing Sam wanted was to get back in the game, Gabriel knew it, and Sam’s hesitance silence was the permission he needed.  The angel said fuck it.  Why not blow the entire thing wide open, right?  Why stop at Sam’s sexuality?  Tonight would be fun!

“But seriously, what was he hunting?” Gabriel asked again, then casually inquired in a variety of different tones, “Shape shifter?  Wraith?  Ruguru?  Vengeful spirit?  Oh, maybe a Wendigo!  They’re in mating season!  Could be feeding the kin, too, if they’re—”

“Sam!” Dean’s voice rose in something akin to anger, “How does he know?!  You told a goddamn _civilian_?!”

“No!  I didn’t!  And why are you yelling at me?!”  He shouted back, taking a step forward to go toe-to-toe with his brother.  “Besides, Gabriel asked you a question—what _was_ Dad hunting?!  When did he go dark!?”

Dean gestured wildly between the couple and demanded, “Are we not going to talk about this?!”

“We can later, but if we wanna save your dear ol' Pops, we should probably focus on that one,” Gabriel pointed out helpfully, despite Dean’s shock, but he was glad to rip off the band aide.  “Any information would be nice.”

Sam pulled Gabriel with him into the living room, knowing Dean would follow and now that it was all out in the open they may as well sit down.  Especially if anything escalated, it would be best if he was sitting.  Sam was exhausted from the week at school, all he’d wanted to do was curl up with Gabriel but now he was worried about everyone butting heads and their dad.  It wasn’t like him to not check in like this.

“Just—” Dean collapsed down on the edge of the chair while Gabriel and Sam took the couch.  “How much does he know?  And how?”

“I’m right here,” Gabriel waved his hand obnoxiously, “You can stop asking Sam these questions that I can answer about myself.  Especially because you need to chill out and he doesn’t need you all pissed off at him.  Give him a break.  It’s finals week!”

Dean had no idea how to handle this new face.  No idea whatsoever.  Everything had escalated so quickly, from zero to one hundred in the blink of an eye and—

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have some extra help anyway?” Gabriel pointed out, leaning back against Sam and resting his hand on his boyfriend’s thigh.

“Is that it?  Sam is settling down with a hunter?” Dean was trying his hardest to direct his questions to Gabriel, but he wanted to order them of his brother.  It felt more natural, but there was another player in the game now.

“Me?  A hunter?” Gabriel put a hand on his chest before he cackled, “Oh, hell no!  But I do know…well, everything.  More than the two of you put together.”

Dean was in a huff when he said, “Oh, really?  So you’ve never been on a hunt, but you’re above us and—”

“Stop!  Oh my God!  Why are we fighting?!  This has been one giant mess since you broke in, Dean!”  Sam threw his arms in the air, not being able to handle the tension and the aggressive back and forth.  He should have seen this coming, the strong clashing of personalities, but he didn't need this!  “Just stop!  Everyone, take a breath.”

There was a lull after Sam’s outburst, both men seeing how tightly wrapped he was and respecting it.  Gabriel showed him care in the form of a soothing touch running up and down his thigh, keeping his mouth zipped closed—which was a feat all by itself.  Dean stayed in his seat and took his brother’s advice, taking deep breaths.

Sam turned his head to Gabriel and asked with hesitation, “Is there a way for you to…” he dropped the volume so only the archangel could hear, “can you give him his memories back?”

“It wouldn’t help him remember me, Sammy.  It’d only make him remember Cas,” Gabriel reminded softly.

“But…” Sam pushed the topic, “This Dean, now…he’s not going to believe in angels.  No way in hell.  I don’t know what to say about you, and I’m not going to lie.  I can’t lie to anyone again.  Not after what happened with Cas.  Just tell me, can you do it?”

Gabriel pressed his lips together as he thought, as he tried to put together a way to go back into the recesses of Dean’s mind and seize those faraway memories from not just another life, but from another Dean.  They had to be in there, since Sam’s had made it through, they _had_ to be somewhere.

“How is he gonna let me touch him so I can even try?” he asked Sam, nose brushing his ear, trying so damn hard not to be heard.

“Easy.”  Sam turned and said to Dean with a challenging voice, “You want to know everything?  We can’t tell you, we can show you.  It’s all there in your head, Dean.  It needs to be unlocked.  Gabriel, he’s a healer—” Sam could say those words, because they technically weren’t lies, “and you need to trust him.  You need to let him free those memories that are hidden away.”

Of course, Dean looked at Sam like he’d grown two heads.  “Excuse me?  My head’s been fucked with?  When?  Where?”

“Do you trust me?”

Gabriel tried to suppress a grin, because Sam had just pulled the puppy eyes out, and no one on God’s green Earth were immune to those.  This was going much better than he could have expected.  Not only was he meeting with Dean, if Sam managed to finagle a way for him to get into his grapefruit?

Oh, Cas wouldn’t be able to stay away for even a minute longer.

Whether it was Dean’s desperate prayer, his tenacity and putting together an actual summoning ritual.  Simply knowing that Cas was aware Dean wasn’t in the dark anymore may be enough to get his feathery ass down here.  When the Winchesters saw the vessel Gabriel constructed in the exact image of what they remembered as Castiel’s corporeal Reaper form, it would be one helluva throwback.  It would bring comfort to everyone.

They’d get their reunion—the one that Sam mourned and craved.  The love that Dean had no idea he’d lost and would make him a better man.  Gabriel was determined to bring the three back together, because what they had couldn’t be replicated and it all hinged on Sam’s ability to convince Dean of an issue (that didn’t even exist) that could be fixed by someone who wasn’t who he said they were.

Yet Dean was in a stare off with his little brother, who he loved and would do anything for.

He dramatically crossed his arms and hunched back into the chair with a gruff, “Fine!  Whatever.  Do yer…healing…thing.  Just don’t, like, get into my brain and read my mind, or any shit.”

Bingo.

Gabriel felt glee wash over him, and Sam blindly reaching out to grab him, like he couldn’t believe it worked either.  Rubbing his hands together and standing up, Gabriel announced proudly, “Let’s get’a ‘healing.’”


	11. Chapter Ten

It had worked!  Sam knew damn well it had by Dean’s gobsmacked expression and the way he looked at him as though he were seeing Sam for the first time.  Then, by the way he shoved Gabriel aside and launched on his ‘little brother.’

“Holy fuck,” Dean’s voice broke as his arms wrapped around Sam and he began to babble, Sam holding on just as tightly.  “Y-you, we—shit.   _This_ …our lives, this wasn’t what you deserved, Sammy.  This wasn’t what Existence was supposed to be, you...fuck!  John treated you like an outsider, I even gave you shit for running away because you wanted something better!  You knew _everything_ deep down, you—”

With a sudden jolt from his memories, he didn’t loosen his grip, but he did whip his head back around to gape at Gabriel.  “You…who…?   _How_ did you?”

“He’s the angel,” Sam’s voice was hushed and full of fondness.  “Back from—”

“Woah, woah!” Dean’s voice conveyed shock when he put together the pieces by himself.  “Back from when we were Reapers?  That one you fell for?  And—” his eyes widened comically, recollecting, “The one you always said was watching over you when we were kids.  I thought you were nuts.  How is that possible, how did you keep your memories while I lost all of mine?”

Gabriel took a step forward, answering for Sam.  “Our introductions?  That tiny part about how we weren’t just boyfriends, that part where we were something more?  Well, right before Sam fell, I gave in to his puppy eyes and decided I wanted what he wanted.  A soul bond.  Well, my grace to his inner…him.  It held up when his Reaper essence transformed into a soul, our connection making everything else look like child’s play in the grand scheme of things.  Even rebirth.”

“Sam,” Dean’s voice was a whisper, “you never told me it was that serious.  Why?”  His voice was accusatory, the older Winchester sounded hurt that he couldn’t be trusted with that information, or something.  Now, Sam felt guilty and he cast a glance over to Gabriel who shrugged, not offering up anything to save him this time.

“I guess I didn’t want to hurt you.”  It was honest, and the brothers broke apart to sit on the couch together, still close enough for their knees to touch as they spoke.  “We were _both_ losing Cas and it was horrible.  I knew how bad it upset me, I couldn’t imagine what it was doing to you.  If I told you that my love was following me into Existence but you were leaving yours behind?  Dean, I…” he sighed and hung his head, “it didn’t seem fair.”

“You know damn well I’d want you to be happy,” he urged, grabbing Sam’s knee.  “So this is the angel, huh?  How long?”

“How long, what?”  Sam’s brows furrowed together in confusion.

“Was he the reason you took off and headed to Stanford?  You could’ve helped unclog my brain earlier, you know.”  This time, Dean huffed and crossed his arms.

“Wait, you think—?”  It finally dawned on Sam and he quickly corrected him.  “No, _no_!  Gabriel coming back to me is new!  He didn’t show up while we were still hunting, Dean.  He wasn’t the reason I left!  I left because I wanted out.  Now that you remember me, the real me, you even said you got it.  No, Gabriel waited,” he shot a look to the archangel, one of mild annoyance, “He waited too damn long!  Hell, I was halfway through my bachelors degree.”  Turning back to Dean, Sam explained, “It’s barely been, what?  A little over year?  As soon as he finally came back, we started living together.  And thank God we did.”

Sam went on to explain, “The reason I talked about it so much as a kid was because I didn’t have a filter and I could feel the distance because of the bond.  It only grew, but I didn’t know anything besides the ache, so I thought it was normal.  But when I ran into him at a bar?  It was like I could breathe.  I’d never felt so free.”

“Wow.”  Dean simply gawked openly, because his brother was speaking with this wild enthusiasm and unbridled love.

Dean…missed that.  Because he had that.  He used to.  And now that Dean could remember everything?  Fuck, he missed it.

“I, for one, am quite tickled you have your memories back,” Gabriel announced with a mischievous grin.  While Sam knew it all too well, even though he had no idea what his angel was smiling about, it made Dean wary.  

He voiced it with an apprehensive, “Why?  Because now I can’t exactly steal Sam away without you tagging along?”

“No.  Because now I can get a certain stick in the mud to get his shit together!” Gabriel gave Sam a deliberate glance, and he realized through their unspoken language what he was referring to immediately.

“Oh my God.  You’re right.  Maybe I wasn’t enough,” Sam’s voice was bitter when those words fell from his lips.  “But he can’t stay away from Dean.  No way in hell!”

“Uh…you guys gonna clue me in, or something?”  He was at a loss as the couple exchanged a series of expressions and mouthed words that left Dean in the dark.  He knew this was something big, and he wanted to know.  Now.  “Hey!  I’m right here!”

It was eerie, the way they both incrementally turned to look at him but didn’t say anything at first.  Sam and Gabriel considered him, judged him, appraised him to see if he could take it; to see if he was worthy or something.  Shit, Dean didn’t know.   The only thing he was positive on was that he was officially weirded out and he didn’t like this one bit.

“I keep in contact with Cas.”

When Gabriel stated those words, Dean (of course) was on high alert and demanded, “Is he all right?!  Does he hate us?  Did he get in trouble for knowing or not stopping us?  How is he?  Is—”

“Oh yeah,” the archangel turned to Sam with a sneer, “he’ll get his attention.  I’m banking on it.”

“What does that mean?” Dean’s forehead scrunched up, but in the blink of an eye he decided he was sick and tired of this game, especially when it came to Cas, dammit!  “Okay, I’m done with this elusive bullshit!  Sammy, tell your boy toy to stop fucking around and start giving me answers!  What do you know?!”

“All of you former Reapers.  So stubborn and bitchy.  Sorry, babe,” Gabriel threw over to Sam, but before he could continue, Dean caught something about his complaint that was important.

 _Damn_ important.

“Former.  You said all of us.  Is Cas—?” he leaned forward, the concept staggering, because there was no way!

“You’re one smart cookie!”  Gabriel clucked his tongue and relayed, “I reached out to Cas after I lost my bond mate.  Knew he was special to Sam and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.  Very, very interesting for a Probitas reaper.  Came up with an idea because, damn, he was pathetic.  Moping like a teenage girl, his numbers were down, like a kicked puppy.”

“Anyway,” Gabriel moved to straddle the armrest of the plush chair, boasting, “Knew he loathed the grubby, emotional, bipedal creatures with a short shelf-life.  But there were two of this species he would do anything for.  I happen to know people in high places.  One, in the highest place.  Offered Cas a deal he couldn’t refuse.”

“What was the deal?!” Dean was ready to lunge from his seat, he needed to know, if Cas wasn’t a Reaper—something he’d always been amazing at and held at the highest level of respect and regard—what the fuck had he done?!

It was Sam who smiled brightly and told Dean, “He traded the proverbial scythe for wings, Dean!”

For a moment, he couldn’t wrap his head around the concept, Cas was an _angel_?  How?  And _why_?

“Told ya, Dean-o.  That person in the highest place helped us out.  And as to the why, he did it for you two,” Gabriel’s tone was soft.  He also informed him, “Sorry, you’re thinking too damn loud, I’m not trying to read your thoughts but they’re just screaming at me.”

Although Dean may have been mildly offended by Sam’s boyfriend’s powers, he decided to ignore that and urgently ask instead, “So we can see him, just like we can see you?  Cas is around, he’s not in-between anymore?  Fuck, I need to talk to him, I need to see him.  How do we make this happen?!”

“Normally, prayer works just fine.  But he’s a pain in the ass.  Especially my ass, these days.”

Sam agreed with Gabriel, admitting, “He hasn’t responded to me.  I’ve begged him to.  Pleaded with him, told him how sorry I was, but Cas…he’s staying away.  I’m hoping now that you’re here he can’t say no.”

“I’m sorry, Sammy.”  And he was.  Dean remembered Gabriel’s previous words and asked him with confusion, “You said that you keep in contact with him.  How?”

“Stalking, mostly.”  Gabriel chuckled.  “Whenever he’s alone on Earth, which he has a liking for, I’ll go harass him.  Or call him down.  A seraph is unable to deny the orders of an archangel.  Even though everyone else thinks I’m dead, he’s in on my secret and has to be sneaky about it.  Each time I see him, I try to convince him to show his face.  Because Sam misses him.”

Dean picked and chose which parts he listened to.  “Why not just order him to see Sam then?  if he can't refuse you.”

“I could,” he said flippantly, “but what about free will?  See, I’m big on that.  And I don’t wanna force anyone to do anything.  That’s a little presumptuous of you, Dean.  Thought you, of all people, would be bigger on consent.  Sure hope that attitude doesn't follow you to the bedroom.”

“I—”  A flush stained his cheeks for a moment before he gave in.  “You’re right.  Cas should want to.  I just…wow.  That’s really, really awesome that he did that.  And thank you.  For giving him a way, an option that didn’t make his skin crawl to reconnect with us.  Even though he doesn’t seem to want to...which I find baffling.”

“He’s an odd duck.  That’s what I’ve concluded from my visits with him,” Gabriel stated decisively and crossed his arms.  “Whattya say we all head to bed?  Dean, feel free to send a prayer up.  I’ll be able to locate your Dad tomorrow, we’ll sort everything out.  But you woke my sleeping beauty up at three am.”

“Y-yeah,” Dean agreed, because he was still bowled over from, well, everything.  “I’ll take your offer on the pullout couch.  Ain't no way I'm leaving now.”  He turned to his brother and had to hug him once more.  Now that his eyes were unclouded and their history was back out in the open, he vowed, “We’ll make everything right again, Sammy.  And you can bet we’ll get Cas’ ass down here.  I promise.”

“Heh, if anyone can, it’s you, Dean,” Sam admitted with a hint of sorrow, because he had this feeling that Castiel was still bitter.  Still held him accountable for this new way of life for all three of them.  Dean clapped him on the back, and when he pulled away Sam smiled, glowing.  “I’m so happy you remember.  Now you don’t think of me as a crazy little brat, talking about angels and Reapers.”

“You’re right.  I wish I’d always known.  Woulda made life and growing up a lot easier.”

Gabriel came up from behind and snatched Sam’s hand, tugging him up.  “C’mon, let’s hit the sack.”

As Sam stood, he allowed himself to be pulled and called to Dean, “Pillows and blankets are right here, hallway closet.  Take whatever you need,” because he needed Gabriel’s support right then.

“Sounds good.  Sweet dreams, lovebirds!” he teased and tossed the throw pillows onto the chair.

As Dean pulled the cushions off and stacked them neatly, he tried to arrange his thoughts, as though his entire world hadn’t just been turned upside down.  Once the bed was made, he sat on the edge, cradling his head, because the information download was beginning to take itself toll.  The human brain must not be equipped to take on and house the millennium's worth of memories created by a Reaper who had manifested at the dawn of time.  Still, the flashes, the random scenes and conversations…all of the ones worth remembering had to do with Sammy and Cas.  Dean tried to focus on those the filter out the rest of the shit.

He had Sammy back.  All of him.  His best friends—not simply his younger brother, and he love him impossibly more.  But now that he’d known that Cas had made moves so they could be all be together be together again, the fact that he was out there?  Dean knew how this worked, or at least the logistics, of getting a hold of an angel.

Dean knew about prayer.

Even though they spoke of tomorrow and getting Cas back, now that he remembered everything…Dean couldn’t bare to wait another moment.  Hell, even if it didn’t drag the now-angel to his side, he could at least ‘confess his sins.’  Or rather, the things he regretted when he was in that house in secret, mind in overdrive wondering if he was making the right choice, leaving Castiel behind.

He clasped his hands and closed his eyes, focusing everything into a tunnel-like vision, concentrating on the ‘Now-Angel Castiel.’

Sure, he’d seen it in the movies in this life.  He’d watched those he reaped making one last ditch effort to God and his angels on their deathbed.  But he hadn’t, as a Reaper nor human (until Gabriel), witnessed an angel in his either of his lifetimes.

From what he’d seen of the apartment, the bedroom was far enough away (and with closed doors) that the couple wouldn’t hear him.  Hell, he had no doubt that Gabriel and Sam were having a chat of their own, but it was muffled enough that Dean couldn’t hear a word.  Which was why when he finally got up the nerve, it was with his voice.

“Castiel, I know you can hear me.  I’ve…been given my memories back by Gabriel.  And I know you’re an angel.  So I’m prayin'.  Not just literally.  I’m praying for so many things.”  A shudder ran through his body as he tried to push as much meaning into his words as he felt, hoping to get through to him.

“Cas…I know you’re upset with us.  Probably still pissed, because I know damn well you can hold a grudge like no other; and for you, there hasn’t been enough time to go by for you to begin to forgive us.  Me?  I’m not expecting forgiveness, hoping you’ll give us another _chance_ , before we’re old and gray.  Goddammit, I miss you _._  I-I don’t regret being there for Sammy.  But I regret leaving you.”

He paused, not trying to offend him, but needing to say it anyway.  “I know that you still love us if you were willing to go full-on angel.  I know that you want to see us, you’re probably just waiting for the right time but _screw_ the right time.  I need you.  I can’t go on knowing you’re out there, knowing you made this choice, but you’re ignoring us."

“No matter what I’ve experienced on Earth I’m still…fuck, I’m still in love with you.  Sam said he felt something was missing until he saw Gabriel again, but guess what?  I feel something missing too, it hurts, and I know it’s you.  So please, don’t hide.  Don’t wait too long.  I’m yours if you’ll have me.  Even though I’m a shitty excuse for a human just like I was a shitty Reaper for you, even though you hate our kind, I…” Dean felt tears prickling at the back of his eyes.  “Come back.  Please.  Do this for us.  Do this for me.”

With his lips pursed, he supposed he’d end it with the typical, “Uh, amen.”

Dean wasn’t expecting much of anything.  He went ahead and stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt and crawled under the covers he’d strewn across the bed.  As far as pull-outs went, it was pretty nice, but he was used to crappy motel mattresses.  He pushed the pillow around until it was a ball of fluff under his head and stared at the ceiling.

Wondering if his prayer even went through, Dean closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing heart.  He didn’t know the exact reason it was pounding a mile a minute, but he knew it had to do with Cas.  Whether it was the fact he was out there, the prospect of even a chance of seeing him again or the fear of being rejected.

In the end, he’d tried.  Dean meant every word, and that’s all he could do for now.  Castiel knew he was down here, that he wanted to see him (be with him) more than anything.  And that’s what mattered.  God, he hoped it mattered.

Thoughts and memories kept him awake until the sun looked as though it was about to rise, and only then did Dean finally fall asleep.

What he didn’t know was that his prayer had gone through.   And that there _was_ an angel there, watching over him.

\--------------------------

Sam and Gabriel were damn lucky that the previous night had been one of making out and nothing less, because once it was a little after eight in the morning, Dean stormed their bedroom.  

He was like a miniature tornado, throwing open the door, shouting out, “Rise and shine!” opening the closed drapes to let the now-blinding sun in, before he went ahead and sat on Sam’s side of the bed.  “Angels are _just_ as summonable as demons, right?”

As they untangled their legs, Gabriel sat up with a sigh (it was a good thing he didn’t really sleep, he only spent the nights with Sam to give him a sense of normalcy) and stared Dean down.  “Not totally sure that’s a word, buddy.”

With a heavy eye roll, he looked down to his brother who was stretching and finally moving up at a snail's pace to lean against the headboard.  “You know what I mean.”

Sam muffled a yawn and asked Dean, “Wait.  You’re actually thinking about _summoning Cas_?  Isn’t that a little—”

“Selfish?  Rude?  Not giving him a damn choice in the matter?” Dean listed off on his fingers.  “Yer damn right, it is.  But you know what all those things are, just as much?  The same way he’s been acting, all graced-up and still hasn’t seen us!  I’m not waiting around for him to get up the courage or whatever bullshit he's fighting with.  He made this call _for us_ , Sammy.  Went out of his way, and for what?”

“To…” Sam tried to come up with a defense for Cas, because Dean was being reckless, but couldn’t find a good one.  He honestly liked the idea of seeing him again, and if it was Dean to pull the trigger, well—it wasn't Sam, right?  Which is why he turned to Gabriel and asked, “You probably know exactly how to do it, don’t you?”

“Well, duh.  But it’s not like I wanna see _any_ angels, so I’m rusty.”  He pecked a kiss on Sam’s cheek, because he was still sleepy-eyed and adorable.  “I could always just use straight-up archangel strength and drag him here, kicking and screaming.  Instead of you wasting your time gathering the ritual goods, ya know.  I mean, since you totally ignored my advice about consent.  Like a dick.”  Gabriel shook his head at Dean’s intense ferocity, “And I know you’re gonna get him here one way or another.”

Sam was hesitant when he asked, “Did you…try to pray for him?”

“Oh, that would make sense!” Gabriel announced, and with a grin confirmed, “Dean-o totally got on his hands and knees for that one.  I felt a presence last night, but it was still in the ethereal plane.  You almost hooked him, kid!” he told Dean, complete with a slow clap.

“What?!”  His jaw dropped momentarily, but Dean was fueled and raring to go, so it was only a half-beat.  “He was…he was here?!”  Then his eyes narrowed into something maddening.  “Dammit, Cas!”  Dean’s hands clenched into fists and he punched the mattress, exclaiming, “I was so close!  Why?  Just—why?!  Why is he doing this, why is he staying away?!”

“I’d send up one more prayer,” Sam suggested with a smile.  “If he was that close after one, maybe he’ll finally give in after two.  If not?” he turned to Gabriel and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “We do have someone to bring him in, kicking and screaming.”

“It’s happening!” Dean suddenly jumped up from the bed.  “I got you, Sammy.  Even if our upbringing wasn’t the best, you’re my little brother.  I loved you since the moment they brought you home, and now that I remember everything?  We’re family, in one life, in the next, they can’t tear us apart.  Cas needs to come back.  We need to be _us_ again.”

“That’s all I want,” Sam’s voice was quiet but full of hope.  “The three of us.  At our very own coffee shop, just being together and forgetting what’s outside.  Those were the best days of my Reaper life.  The two of you made me strong, supported me—even though Cas didn’t know it, it was about turning my back on death and exchanging it for life.”

“Hey,” Gabriel’s voice was comforting as he addressed both Winchesters.  “Cas did the exact same thing for you two.  He exchanged death for his wings.  It had nothing to do with wanting to be an angel.  It had everything to do with watching over you muttonheads, being able to see you when he wanted and following you _beyond_ the Pearly Gates.  He wasn't about to be stopped by a giant ‘Do Not Enter’ sign as a Reaper would.”

The archangel made deliberate eye contact with Dean and Sam individually.  “He made a sacrifice, too.  He may be on the fence on how to approach you, but everything that happened about you left, well.  He was a hot mess.  He couldn’t do this job like he used to, he was sinking.  I kept a close eye on him and I knew without you two little shits, there…was no him.  That’s why I delivered him to the Big Man and hoped we could fix it.”

That was when it clicked for Dean.

Gabriel’s love for Sam.  Still, more importantly, recognizing Sam’s love for his family and how deeply it ran.  The archangel knew he was a piece of Sam’s life, but there were others who made him just as happy, and he wanted to aide.  He wasn’t jealous of the friendships, over their little unit, Gabriel wanted it to thrive.  He’d gone that extra mile, hell, he’d ran a _marathon_ for them, and Dean learned that this gesture was huge.

“Gabe, I…” Dean cleared his throat.  “If you feel like I’ve given you any shit, take it with a grain of salt.  You’ve done so fucking much for us.  Thank you.”

The archangel was clearly taken aback.  It looked like _both_ Winchesters had a talent of surprising him when he least expected it, but be shrugged his shoulders and tried to blow it off with, “Hey, when Sam and I created our bond, I got a flash of some memories.  Those were inevitable during the process, but from just a sneak peak inside his head?  I knew the plus two came with the package.   _Both_ of you Reapers.  I want to get the band back together.”

Dean noticed the way his brother looked at Gabriel with sheer adoration.  Like he hung the damn moon.  Dean realized that’s probably how he looked when he stared at Cas.  He just needed to get the idiot back!

“Alright, one more prayer session for you, Sammy.  But after that, I’m taking Gabriel up on his offer and he’s gonna deliver one fledgling angel, bitching and moaning,” Dean warned, and then added, “It’s gonna be soon.  It’s just gotta.  Dad’s still missing and—”

Gabriel suddenly supplied, “He’s tracking Azazel.”  And when he saw two blank stares, he snorted and dumbed it down to, “Yellow Eyes?  He thinks he’s got a line on him, following after signs, and whatnot.  But I’m almost positive he’s still a few steps behind.  Too many steps behind.”

“How did you—” Dean was baffled, leaning forward and wondering if his ears had deceived him.  “Why wouldn’t he tell us?  And how do _you_ know?”

With a shrug, Gabriel answered with all the nonchalance in the world, “When Sam was sleeping I slipped out for a hot sec.  Knew it was important to you guys, so I went to find John.  Flew around, never went corporeal so I could keep my wings out and covered major ground.  His hotel room wall is gonna take away his security deposit, that’s for sure.  If they don’t think he’s a serial killer first and call the cops,” he shook his head at the fond memory.  “He’s checking rumors from other hunters.  Think he didn't wanna drag you in until he knew for sure.  Too dangerous, or whatever.”

“But he’s okay?” Sam pried, because he knew that’s what Dean would want to know.

“Oh yeah, a little coo-coo in my opinion, but fine.”  He huffed and asked the brothers, “Damn, how did you two turn out normal?  That guy’s obsession is bar none!”

Just then, Dean jerked at attention when he realized the pure firepower they had right under their noses.  “Gabriel, fuckin' archangels…in every bit of lore that I came across, and yeah, I ignored, they’re at the goddamn top of the pyramid—archangels are supposed to be insanely powerful.  Like, _all-_ powerful, deadly weapons.  Could you—?”

“Take out Azazel?” he finished for Dean and leaned back happily into Sam’s body heat, feeling his eyes on him as well.  “Hell yeah, I could.  Just gotta do a sweep and find him, first.”

“Could you imagine,” Dean looked at Sam with disbelief yet a fine line of joy.  “What if Dad needs this?  And _only_ this?  What if he retires once Yellow Eyes is gone?  Once he gets his revenge?  Do you think…he’d be satisfied?”

Sam tried not to look offended, because it _was_ John who told him if he left, to never come back.  “You’re the one with the answer, Dean.  I haven’t seen him in, what?  Almost over four years?  And now, with all my visions as a child confirmed, being with an archangel, I doubt he’d ever let a confirmed former-Reaper, now-out gay son back into his life.  We’re kind of at a stalemate.  And you've always known him better than me.”  He tried not to grind his teeth and wrapped his arms around Gabriel from behind, looking for some kind of grounding.

Dean felt heartbroken, because all of Sam’s words were true.  Well, from Sam's viewpoint, Dean knew that their Dad loved Sam—but he may not understand a goddamn thing about who (or what) they truly were.  John really was a dick like that, and who knew what he’d do after his revenge was finished.  Now that they were on the outside looking in, it was almost as though John was just another human instead of their father, having been around for centuries upon centuries longer than he had.  It was another strange facet to having their memories back.

“We can…hope?” Dean offered kind of pathetically and shot Gabriel a smile, because he knew that when he left the room, he’d comfort Sam.  “I’m gonna give Cas one last chance.  He’ll get a warning, too.  This ain’t over.”

Sam simply nodded his confirmation, because now he was momentarily caught up from recollections of the past on Earth.  About how he had never been good enough, how he’d been the black sheep, constantly demeaning him and—

“Hey, stop that!” Gabriel admonished, turning them around once Dean had left.  “We talked about this, didn’t we?  John’s a Class A douche bag.  I know, I know.  Parental approval is always something we seek, but a lot of us don’t get it.  I’m lucky enough to be the only angel in Heaven who knows where Dad is, I’m the only one who can speak with him.  The other angels?  Kinda salty.  That doesn’t mean He hesitates to yell at me all the time.”

Gabriel tried to look on the bright side, kissing Sam’s forehead, attempting to ease his scrunched brow, “In a matter of hours, you’re getting Cas back, okay?  And I'll go take care of the Big Bad.  Focus on that.”

All right, that actually really, _really_ helped.  Sam was never one to force someone’s hand, but Dean didn’t give a flying fuck about starting there and pushing for more.  Thank God he had his memories returned to him, because now a bit of that tenacity of his former Lepos self was shining through, and Sam couldn’t wait to see Cas again.

He was vibrating with excitement and grabbed hold of Gabriel, whispering out, “Thank you,” before they both hopped up to get dressed for the day.  It would be a big one.


	12. Chapter Eleven

“It’s been four fucking days!” Dean ranted from the kitchen table as Sam was cooking.  “And yer fold-out couch is nice, but it’s not _that_ nice.”

Sam chuckled from the stove and stirred the pasta.  He was downright spoiled.  Before Gabriel, he bought nothing but microwave dinners—but once the archangel was back in his life, whatever he had a craving for?  Gabriel would snap his fingers and the fine dining would appear right in front of him.  So cooking wasn’t _exactly_ in his bag of tricks.  He'd lived on greasy diner food growing up, so the skill was never necessary, boiling noodles and take-out was about all he could accomplish on his own and the last handful of days he had to feed his brother.

“Trust me, I know, Dean.”  Sam ruefully added, “I can feel when he’s gone, the bond it…tugs.  Now that we live together, now that he only hops away once in awhile it hasn’t bothered me but now I’m anxious.”

“I didn’t even think about that.”  He lowered his voice a little and sank back in the chair, nursing his beer.  “Sorry about that, dude.”

“It’s fine.”

But it really wasn’tfine.  While he said he was anxious, it didn’t even scratch the surface.  Sam was trying to be on his best behavior, but he was irritable, frustrated, lonely and above all else: worried.  Because Gabriel hadn’t even called or sent him a text.  He didn’t know what was happening and he hated it.

The moral of the story was praying didn’t work.  So, true to his plan, Gabriel promised Dean he would find the little shit and bring Cas back.  Except, it wasn't a handful of hours like predicted.  That was _four days ago_.  Sam couldn’t imagine what was happening, he couldn’t—

“Uh, I smell burning.”  Dean’s voice interrupted his internal dialogue, and that’s when he smelled it, too.

“Ah, shit!”  Sam abandoned stirring the pasta from his dazed stated and ducked down to the oven to see that half the slices of garlic toast were, indeed, charred.

He grabbed the oven mitts, turned it off and grabbed the metal sheet to set on the counter, cursing under his breath.  Sam was tempted to just throw it across the fucking room, that’s how testy he was!  But he couldn’t let it show, he had to remain cool and collected, even if it were a mask—if only for Dean’s benefit.  He had to show complete, unwavering trust in Gabriel.

Sam groaned, tossing a few pieces in the garbage that weren’t salvageable but leaving the ones that were.  At least there were some that weren’t completely blackened.

“Sam, sorry, but your pot’s boiling over,” Dean sighed out, and when Sam darted over to see, yes, it was, too, his brother was pushing him out of the way.  “Sit down.  Relax.  You’re too frazzled to handle this—”

“No, I’m not!” He shouted, but then that outburst was when it became clear…he really was too ‘frazzled’ to keep himself together.  “I didn’t mean to yell, I just…”

“I know, you don’t have to explain it.  Just grab a beer and let me, all right?” Dean flashed him a smile and went ahead, tasting and sauce and adding more spices and ingredients to it.

Sam had tried so damn hard to be a good host, he’d tried to let Dean relax because the time elapsed more than likely had to do with Castiel’s refusal or something else, but they were both affected.  But Dean seemed cooler under pressure, which Sam didn’t exactly understand, to be honest.

If the situations were reversed, Sam would be a nervous wreck.

That’s what caused him to word-vomit, “Four days and you’re complaining about the couch?  Aren’t you worried about other things?”

Looking over his shoulder and shrugging, Dean made it seem simple with, “The couch is the only thing I can control.  Everything else is out of our hands, Sammy.  Why freak ourselves out, think of the worse-case-scenario when we have no idea what’s going on?  Hey, where’s the strainer?”

“Bottom cabinet, under the silverware.”  Sam said and thought about Dean’s words.  Truly thought about them.  This was Dean’s past, this Reaper side, because “Dean Winchester” would never, _ever_ have had the cool head to handle these things with such a optimistic serenity.  And here was Sam, forgetting that Reaper patience and being too much “Winchester.”

The way their two lives collided brought out different versions of themselves, the mixed lineage made for one hell of an outcome.  Apparently, one who was collected as a human and forgot how to be once the Reaper side was confirmed, and the other, (when their sides came together) gracefully accepted the one surrounded by death.  It was intriguing, to say the least.

“All right!”  Dean had previously set the table while Sam’s cooking fiasco began, and now he was balancing the sauce pan, bowl of spaghetti and the pathetic small pieces of bread when he gleefully said, “Ready to dig in and—”

In the next moment, spaghetti was flying _everywhere_ , the sauce had _covered_ Dean before it hit the ground and the heavy pot clattered, making a horrible noise.  The poor pieces of toast were done, once and for all, crumbling and scattering as they hit the floor.  

In the middle of the kitchen appeared two angels, one was Gabriel, who had second-hand spatter marks of crimson across his face and drenching his clothing.  He was hovering above the one who collapsed on the tile, tears across his skin with blood leaking out from fresh wounds and bruises marring his familiar face.

Dean and Sam moved so fast, they almost skidded and tripped over the sauce, rushing to their sides and shouting, “Cas!” as he looked around in a daze.  But it _was him,_ which made no sense, because angels needed a vessel and this was Cas'memorablecorporeal form!  It was the exact sight of him as a Reaper, yet beaten within an inch of his life—

Gabriel’s eyes were narrowed dangerously with this sharp hint of gold, roaring the order of, “Back the fuck up!  I need to heal him.  Now!”

Cas tried to speak, but he ended up coughing out blood and curling in on his side.

Sam had witnesses Gabriel using his power in small doses over the years.  Whether it was a drunken injury Sam had gotten from a night out, or seeing a little girl skin her knee on the playground and Sam had given him the puppy eyes to heal her.  It was a small, hardly noticeable pulse of white light that didn’t extend further than his palm, but this?  This was different.

This was a blindly blue and silvery ice-like _explosion_ that filled the room and forced Sam and Dean to cover their eyes.  Although they couldn’t see, the very ground beneath their feet rumbled and they could hear Cas shout out in pain, Gabriel saying something in—Enochian?

The pulses vibrated, the house shook, and the breath was stolen from the human's lungs and the power—it was _indescribable_.

When everything began to fade, Dean was on the move again and fell to his knees beside Castiel, who was finally knitted back together.  Sam was right behind him, where Dean was there to pull Cas’ head to his lap, Sam made sure Gabriel was all right before he couched on the other side of Cas, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand.

Those wide and brilliant blue eyes were the same, blinking rapidly as he took in the scene and turned to Gabriel who was still covered in blood.  “D-did you?”

“Did I what?  Save your dumbass from a suicide mission?  Heal you?  Or take care of him?  Yeah, all of the above, bucko,” Gabriel was shaky when he got up and while Sam wanted to follow him, he needed to help Cas up and be there for the angel.

“Let’s move him into the living room,” Sam suggested, and no sooner than he said it, did the brothers gently scoop him up and then duck under Cas’ arms, carrying him to the couch.

Castiel had yet to get his sea legs back.  He was mended, but he was still a bit dizzy.  A little disoriented, having been bleeding out, and he wasn’t quite sure if this was really happening.  He looked back and forth between Dean and Sam, wondering if this was a dream.  Or, perhaps, he had died—since no one knew where angels went in the event of death.

It took a few minutes of sitting for Cas to realize, yes, this was happening and his head jerked up to the archangel in the chair, kicked back and regrouping.  “Thank you, Gabriel, I would’ve been dead without you, I—”

“Cram it.  Never be an idiot like that again and we’ll call it square.”

Sam had never witnessed this side of Gabriel.  It was almost wrathful, this overwhelming and crushing force of a warrior, sending a grave warning to Cas.  One that he was fearful of, you could see it in his body language, immediately falling into submission.  And that wasn’t something that Castiel would have done unless the threat was very, _very_ real.

The tension in the room was high, but Sam and Dean needed to know what was going on, what the hell hadcaused this, and why they were gone for so long.  There was a mountain of questions just waiting to be voiced, but this hadn’t been the way they’d imagined their reunion.  Not by a long shot.

Sam figured he’d have the better chance at coaxing something out of Gabriel, asking softly, “What happened?  Are you okay?”

“Peachy.”  Gabriel snorted and his focus was on Castiel, and Castiel alone.  “What we have here, boys, is a stalker.  Or should I say voyeur?  Someone who just _loves_ listening in on what his BFFs are up to, but would rather keep a distance knowing they’re okay than being apart of their lives.  Until something isn’t going their way, and he decides to be their champion!”

Both Winchesters looked at Cas in confusion, Sam’s glance slow and subtle, Dean jerking his head hard enough to get whiplash.

“Cas, what did you do?” Dean reached out and grabbed his hand, even though the angel pulled away.  “Hey, don’t give me that bullshit, I missed you!  You’re not fluttering away, now that you’re here, so don’t even try!  We deserve some answers, dammit!”

“Yeah, I remembered you since I was old enough to comprehend this stuff.  Always told Dean he had a Reaper who loved him looking out for him.  I’ve known you, wanted you back in my life this entire time,” Sam added onto Dean’s aggressive take with something a little kinder.  “And whatever it was?  Sure, Gabriel can tell us, but we’d like it much more if we heard it from you.”

This time, Cas didn’t pull away, he let Dean intertwine their fingers even though his head was ducked in shame.  He chewed on his lip, wondering what the best course of action may be…

“I know you’ve been watching over us,” Dean encouraged, “But what does that have to do with being ‘our champion,’ or whatever he said?”

Across the room, Gabriel laughed out loud, and that seemed to be the thing that spurred Castiel forward.  “You were speaking about ways you could possibly get out of hunting.  I wished, after I found out _how_ you were reborn, the lives you led, that things could’ve been different for you.  I was happy that Sam found a way out but…I wanted a way out for you too, Dean.”

When Cas actually finally locked eyes with the man in question, there was nothing but confusion in front of him.  So the angel had to press, “I overheard you speaking about vengeance.  About how it drove your Father mad.  I’d already known that’s what had gotten you into hunting in the first place.  I’d hoped if that revenge was exacted, there would be no need for you to continue living as you are.  I thought you…I thought you could have a normal life and enjoy what you chose Existence for in the first place.  Because I knew this _wasn’t_ it.”

“Wait,” Sam realized in shock, “You’re telling us _you_ went after the Yellow Eyed Demon?!”

With a grave nod, Cas expressed, “I did.”

“And while _he_ was tracking Azazel, I was tracking _him._   The little shit put wards up wherever he went so I could only get little blips on my radar when he was in flight!” Gabriel complained, “Clearly, he didn’t want me involved.  But, also clearly, he had no idea what the flying fuck he was getting himself into!”

“You were the one who spoke of ending him,” Cas returned to Gabriel, “Angels versus demons, any kind of lore I know, any kind I’ve read up on, or angel I’ve spoken to—we always win.”

“Not against a _Prince of Hell,_ buddy!  They‘re powerful.  They were Lucifer's first right after Lilith!  He hand-picked and created them and even though Azazel is a freaky fanatic while the others tend to hide, that doesn't negate his power!”  He growled right back, “And I was talking about me, you jackass!  Archangel armed with an archangel's blade!  You stood no chance, Castiel.”

“I-I,” Cas kept searching for the words, only to realize there were none.  “You’re correct.  I did not.”

Dean’s stomach was in his throat at the mere thought.  Cas was about to give away his life—after giving away his Reaper status for them—trying to give them the Existence they wanted.  When the angels had come crashing down in the kitchen, Gabriel had been _saving_ Cas, bringing him back to heal him some place safe.

“How did you find him?” Dean asked Gabriel and squeezed Cas’ hand harder while scooting even closer—it was amazing what the prospect of losing someone forever did to a person.  “If he was hiding from you, little blips, here and there…”

Gabriel wore a calculated smirk.  “When Cassie jumped ship on the Death train, I was there.  I had Chuck link a small bit of his grace to mine, but not the other way around.  So I’d know if he was hurt, if his lifeline was fading.  He was my pet project and my responsibility.”

He leaned forward on his legs, still upset with the angel and focused on the Winchesters, “The link tugs when there’s injury, but when grace is depleting it fuckin’ _yanks_.  Like a shark on a fishing pole.  And I followed that link as fast as my wings could take me.  Hell, you guys saw the condition he was it.”

“What about the blood,” Sam asked, with a gentle hand naturally on Cas’ knee, letting him know he was there for him as much as Dean was.  “They weren’t defensive wounds or even from carrying Cas.  You’re covered in it.”

“Oh, you’re as smart as you are gorgeous, my lovely Moose,” he purred, wanting to be closer to Sam but knowing this reunion was unexpected but necessary.  “I zapped Cas stable.  Figured I could finish the healing when we dropped in.  But he did it—he tracked Yellow Eyes and there he was.  And voila!  There _I_ was.  Of course, I had to finish it.”

Gabriel’s tone turned malicious, “But I didn’t let him off easy, oh no.  Not after seeing how he carved into Cas, how he played with his food.  After knowing what he did you to _you_ as a baby, the plans he had for you, Sammy?  After killing your Mother, turning you Father into a machine set on payback, after being the one thing that stood in the way of you two and a happily ever after?  I returned the favor.  I returned it until he was screaming, begging for me to end it.  Then I cut out his tongue so I wouldn't have to listen to his pleading when I continued.”

He snapped up a wet wipe, feeling the crusted blood flaking from his face, his expression eerily transforming at the drop of a hat into something pleasant, “So now Papa Winchester doesn’t have to worry!  He’s dead.  Not merely sent back to Hell, oh no, he’s gone.  For good.  And even though we ruined dinner, Cas is looking nice, right?  Just needs a new set of clothes.”  Gabriel glanced Sam and pouted, “Too bad you’re too tall and I’m too short.  I’ll just have to snap up something fresh, huh?” then delivered.

Dean leaned over Cas and whispered to his brother, “ _Dude_.  Your boyfriend is fucking terrifying.”

“I guess so,” Sam laughed and shook his head, because even if this was a new side to Gabriel, he didn’t disapprove.  “If I got my hands on Yellow Eyes and I had his power?  I’d do the same goddamn thing.  Wouldn’t you?”

When Dean sat back up straight, he nodded, “You’re right.  Always are.”

“Thank you, Gabriel,” Castiel spoke up once more, and finally allowed himself to relax in-between the Winchesters.  “If you hadn’t been there, I…well, we all know what would’ve happened.  But it didn’t.  And now Azazel is gone once and for all.”

“You bet,” Gabriel winked and snapped his fingers again.  “There we go.  Dining room is clean.  Cas has got some comfy clothes.  And I’m going to see if I can’t find John Winchester.  You three have got some catching up to do!”  

He crossed the room as the men were standing and wasn’t expecting Sam to wrap his arms around him, clinging to him for dear life, and kissing the fuck out of him.  Gabriel didn’t mind the impromptu make out, it was usually Sam who steered clear of PDA, but he understood where the kid’s head was at.  He was thankful for _many_ things, and all those things Gabriel had made happen.

When they pulled away, Sam was breathless and cradled Gabriel’s face, eyes flickering to his kiss-swollen lips.  “God, I just love you so much.  We can’t say thank you enough.  Hopefully, I can show you later, if that’s a good place to start,” he teased, and Gabriel chuckled instantly.

“I love you, too.  You don’t even have to offer sexual favors, I’ll seduce you all by myself, Sammy.  But, _damn_ , do I want you right now…”  He clucked his tongue and tried to get back with the mission at hand.  “When I find him.  Your Dad.  Do I approach and make contact?  Tell him to call you boys for the news?  Or just give it to him and have you confirm it?”

“Wow, you really are God’s Messenger, aren’t you?” Sam bantered with a grin, “Have him call us.  If he seems hesitant, tell him what happened.  If he attacks you, obviously it won’t do anything, just tell him what you are because it won’t matter anyway.”

“Sounds like a plan.”  He pecked Sam on the lips and promised, “I’ll be back tonight.  Keep the bed warm for me.”  With the sound of wings rustling, Gabriel disappeared.

At least this time, he said when he’d be back so the bond wouldn’t bother him, it wouldn’t affect him if Gabriel was only gone for a couple hours.  Sam looked back around to see Cas and Dean standing in the doorway, waiting for him to join him.

“Dude.  Gabriel snapped up _real_ Italian, rather than our poor attempt.  It’s still hot, let’s get eating!”  Dean waved him on and turned to Cas, “Do angels eat?” like it was just another day they were meeting for coffee.

“We don’t need sustenance, no.”  He moved as robotically as ever, but with the same face, same body, same everything…it was as though nothing changed.

“Why is there a third place setting, then?” Dean asked, sitting in one of the chairs and not hesitating to scarf it down because one: he was starving.  And two: the quicker he ate the sooner he’d be able to ask Cas questions.

Sam abruptly laughed and admitted, “Gabriel always eats.  He indulges in ‘the finer things.’  And he’s got one helluva sweet tooth.”

Everyone was seated, and Castiel tilted his head to the side, looking at Sam.  “Gabriel…partakes?  I do not understand.”

“I don’t try to understand him.  I’m just happy with him.  Are you happy?”  Sam slipped in, while cutting up his eggplant parmesan, “Being an angel, I mean.  Does it suit you?”

Dean was trying hard not to stare, but the fact that Cas was finally, _finally_ here just made him so happy.  He wanted to tackle him, to hold him, to kiss him, to make love to him—and wow that escalated quickly.  But Dean wanted all these things and more.  He couldn’t help how much he loved him, and he tried to show it through small things, like making sure their legs were brushing during dinner.

“Being an angel is similar.  We have orders that come from higher up, missions to fulfill.  My garrison, we’re an army of soldiers and we’ve been trained for combat, to fight,” he explained and figured out aloud, “That’s probably why I was so confident in my abilities to take out Azazel.  But I hadn’t done the research that I _should_ have about him.  I forgot the fact that Gabriel, he…well, he’s pure strength.  An archangel, they’re Heaven’s most fierce and powerful weapons.  They don't walk among us, they're on an entirely different level.  I took for granted the fact that I knew Gabriel and he treated me as an equal, I was foolish.”  Castiel admitted, “However, I’m very, very lucky that he took an interest in me.”  He glanced over and smiled at Sam, stating, “I have you to thank for it.  Any other archangel would looked at a seraph as nothing more than dirty under their shoe.”

“I am so happy you’re all right.” Sam sincerely blurted out, “You have no idea what life has been like without you, when you have the memories.  It’s crazy and it…sucks.”

“Why did you keep away?”  Leave it to Dean to skip the proverbial foreplay.

Cas stared at him and he looked almost…affronted?  That was when Sam knew he wanted to stay out of this.  He didn’t want to pick sides, he didn’t want to feel _either_ of their wrath, he’d take his time eating and let them sort this out, thank you very much.

“Why did you _run away_?” was Castiel’s biting retort.

“You know damn well why!  How many times have we had this conversation?!  And it happened, it's over!  So now we can be together. Now we can go back to the way things were with the three of us!  And you know what?  You understand it now, too!” Dean leaned into Cas’ space as Sam popped a tomato in his mouth from the salad. “Because _you_ made a choice that was just as big as ours!  A choice that would allow you to do all the things I just listed!  Or why the fuck else would you do it?!”

Sam watched them glare openly at each other.  This was one of those intense moments when things broke out into a brawl or angry sex went down.  Sam could only hope that they solved this like adults.  He didn't want to get in the middle of either of those situations.

“I didn’t know what to say to you.  I didn’t know how to come back.  I gave in, I changed my stance, my morals, my entire… self _,_ for you two!  Sam, that’s why I couldn’t answer your prayers.  I knew you were living the Existence you’d hoped for, that you’d gotten away from hunting and found Gabriel.  I didn’t want to ruin or spoil anything,” Cas attempted to explain.

Sam’s brow furrowed as he urged, “It would’ve been better, so much better, with you back in my life, Cas.  I don’t get it, and I don’t want to get into a fight, but you don’t give yourself enough credit.  We’re all equals, we all matter just as much to each other.  We’re _all_ family.  And losing you…it hurt.  Especially when you were within reach, and I knew that, but wouldn’t come back.”

“Yeah,” Dean affirmed.  “Who cares what you said?  Who cares how you came back?  What mattered...what _matters_ is that you’re with us.  There’s nothing better in the world, no other place I’d rather be than right here.  With you and Sam.  Randomly chatting about our days, because that’s something we do.”

There was a beat of silence, before Castiel finally perked up.

“Just like that?”

“Just like what?” Dean asked openly.

“Just like that, things can go back to the way they were?” he specified with hopeful eyes but reserved and nervous body language.

Sam instantly said, “Of course, Cas.  Just like that.  Except, it’s better now.  We don’t have to vent about people we reaped, where all I can think about is seeing you guys or else I'm scared I'm just gonna give up.  We can talk about the mundane.  Easy, everyday life things.  And it’s gonna feel awesome, the weight that was always on our shoulders—it's all gone.  Now, things are what we make of them, and it's _together_ again.”

With an avid nod, Castiel decided, “I think I’d like that.”

Dean was careful with his words, but there was another thing he had to know.  “ _Everything_ going back to the way it was?”

Cas flashed a secret smile and confirmed, “Yes, everything.”

Sam tried his damnedest not to roll his eyes or make fun of them, and continued to eat his meal.  Castiel even dove in and agreed that indulging wasn’t such a bad idea—it was something he only did with drink as a Reaper, and had never experienced as an angel.  He was quite interested with whatever Gabriel had whipped up, and he was thrilled with the company surrounding him.

And this was the first of many meals.  Some Gabriel was around for, some he wasn’t.

Yet, one of the best parts of Cas’ new angelic status?  Was his wings.

Each and every Tuesday, they took advantage of them, holding on tight as Castiel flew them back to a very special coffee shop.   _Their_ coffee shop.  And it felt like the ups and downs they’d fought never happened.  Vanished, into thin air.  Any obstacle, Sam's sought-after Existence, suppressing tragedy, overcoming a tricky beginning—they'd left it in the dust and now thrived.  Inside that building where they had their own table, that was their small, little world.

Their own little space, cut out of time.  And it was tradition: each and every Tuesday.  No matter where each of the brothers were, no matter what point in their life, even though Castiel showed no signs of aging and the Winchesters did.  They continued their visits right up until the end, and that same coffee shop?

It had a place in both Sam and Dean’s Heavens.  Which Castiel visited frequently.  While he’d see both Sam and Dean, he found himself lingering within Dean's.  Gabriel managed to sneak in the secret door to stay in Sam’s, never leaving his side—because that’s what bond mates did.    
  
The Winchesters were troublemakers from the moment they were welcomed to the Pearly Gates.  They had been beckoned by an amused face who was curious as to how they did as humans—they had the honor of being reaped by Death himself.  The pair even managed to find countless ways to outsmart the angels and jump into _each other’s_ Heavens so it was never a replay of their Greatest Hits.  They were former Reaper, they weren't about to be stopped anytime soon.  Hell, even though their time may have ran out on Earth, Sam and Dean were still going to make _more_ memories because they were an unstoppable force, having expected to live forever as servants of the dead.  They weren't quitting now that they'd been reaped.

It was true, those in charge didn’t like them very much, but Sam and Dean couldn’t care less.  Especially with an angel and an archangel on their side.  Lovers who made sure they counted the days for them and let Sam and Dean know exactly which day was Tuesday.  That’s when they busted out, the mischief began and all roads led to their own family gathering.  Reapers, turned human, turned souls—they were too stubborn to be separated, they knew how to play the game, to win—and they had all eternity.


End file.
